


Toy Soldier

by silverfirelizard53



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-06-08 17:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 63,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfirelizard53/pseuds/silverfirelizard53
Summary: Ginny does not want to spend ten months locked in a castle while her family risks their lives in a war. Harry might have dumped her, but she's not exactly safe. Hogwarts is more dangerous than ever before...but at least she still has Neville, Luna, and the rest of the D.A. She'll need all the support she can get, because the war is not ending anytime soon. DH-Compliant





	1. Unfamiliar

### CHAPTER ONE: Unfamiliar

Name: Ginevra Molly Weasley

DOB: 11/8/1981

Age: 16

Blood Status: Pureblood

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Notes: Under observation - prior association with Undesirable Number 1. Noted as friendly with Muggleborns and suspected allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix. Interrogate at will.

o - o - o - o - o - o - o

It was the first of September, 1997. The sky overhead was thick with an endless canopy of dreary mist, some of which had even slipped inside the open-air pavilion of King’s Cross Station. Down below, the Hogwarts Express was preparing for its eleven o’clock departure, and it billowed white steam out over the platform to combine with the already-present mist. Visibility was low, and it was unnaturally cold for late summer. Despite this, sixteen-year-old Ginny Weasley could not help but feel a tiny ray of hope at the sight of the train. It filled her chest with warmth, blossoming upward like a beautiful flower in a field of ash. Exactly five years ago, she stood on this platform with no way of knowing just how terrible things would get. For five blissful minutes on this exact platform, Ginny had been completely and utterly free.

That was certainly not the case today.

Her sudden ray of hope was not strong enough to survive, and it soon flickered out and died like a candle in a high wind. Wonderful memories were hard to hold onto these days, and it was a struggle to be happy with the cloying mist still damp upon her cheek. She shifted her school bag higher up on her shoulder, and resigned herself to this new fate, which she figured was worse than death. Ginny did not want to go to school, and she definitely did not want to spend nearly ten months locked in a castle while her family risked their lives in the war. 

She considered all of this and more as she drew nearer to the scarlet steam engine. Before she could get close enough to board, however, someone thrust their arm out to block her way.

“Hold up,” said a man with a stern voice. “No adults on the platform.”

Ginny looked up at him. He was a rigid bloke, with dark hair and a pockmarked face. Although he looked bored and slightly annoyed by the bustle of the platform, he gave her such a scrutinizing look that she felt as though ice had slipped down her esophagus. He wore long sleeves. 

“Fine,” she said.

Her father, however, stepped forward. “Who’s going to help her lift her trunk onto the train?”

“Don’t care,” said the man. “No adults on the platform.”

Arthur Weasley looked as though he wanted to say something more, but decided against it. They couldn’t afford to draw any unnecessary attention today, especially with her brother mysteriously absent from their company. Her father seemed to remember this particular disadvantage and he drew back. Other parents were making the same mistake, and Ginny saw several of her classmates linger on the threshold in confusion and uncertainty. They might have been kids, yes, but they certainly weren’t stupid. 

“It’s okay, Dad,” she said, lowering her voice. “I can handle it.”

“I know you can.”

There was something strange about pretending to be happy when the world was falling apart, because Ginny Weasley was smiling, glowing even. Her long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and there was a hint of makeup around her soft brown eyes. She certainly didn’t feel happy, or even particularly excited, but she wanted to make sure that if today was the last time she ever saw her father, then at least he would remember her smiling face. She adjusted her grip on the wire cage that held Arnold the Pygmy Puff.

This was it. This was the goodbye. 

“Alright, Dad, I’ll see you at Christmas,” she said.

He nodded, sweat standing out on his upper lip. “Okay, Gin-Gin. If anything happens, please let me know and I’ll get you as soon as I can.”

“Right,” Ginny said. There was no way her father would ever be able to reach her in an emergency. They both knew that. “And if you hear anything, please let me know.”

“Just the way we talked about, I promise.”

Ginny took one long, last look at her father, and then she turned to go. The man who had barred her way finally stepped aside. His dark eyes followed her suspiciously as she dragged her trunk across the platform. She didn’t have to struggle long, though, because someone came running to meet her halfway. 

“Neville!” she exclaimed.

She dropped her trunk on the ground and opened her arms up for a hug. Neville, who had grown significantly over the summer, had to bend to reach her. Ginny felt immensely pleased to be reunited with him. It had been several months since they had last seen each other, and a lot of things had happened in that space of time. 

“Hey, Ginny!” he said once they had broken apart. “How are you?”

She tried not to let her smile falter. “I’m doing well.”

“Do you need help with your trunk? Luna’s already got us a compartment.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you!” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. Ginny could just barely see her father in the crowd, but then a new wave of students passed between them, and she could see him no more.

_I’m a Gryffindor_ , she thought forcefully. _I can do this. I have to do this!_

She turned away again. 

There were Death Eaters all over the platform. Ginny recognized some of the faces from the files her parents had for the Order of the Phoenix (not that she was allowed to look at those, of course), and she felt a stab of anger at watching them walk freely through the wide-eyed and innocent first years. These people were wanted criminals, some of them even dangerous murderers, and yet people did nothing to stop them. Everyone acted as though nothing were wrong, but Ginny could spot the discontented if she looked hard enough: students whispering, parents arguing, a small child crying silently…

This year, the students were only allowed to board from one door on the train, and there was a line to check in at the front...a line that was moving too slowly for the shrinking time until departure. This was new and unfamiliar. She exchanged a look with Neville, who raised his eyebrows as if to say, _I know_.

“Name?” asked the man with the clipboard when it was their turn to board.

“You already got me,” said Neville. “See? Right here.”

The man looked up and glared at him. “You shouldn’t have gotten off the train.”

“I’m getting back on. I had to help my friend.”

Ginny could see the muscle in the man’s jaw twitch as if he longed to react. He must have decided that Neville was not worth his time, because he turned his eyes to look at her instead. “Name?”

“Ginevra Weasley.”

There was a sharp inhale of recognition, and the man’s eyes darted to her red hair and then did a sweep around the platform. They must have been debriefed about people of interest, because he inclined his head ever so slightly, and another Death Eater came forward to listen. Ginny continued to stand tall, but her mouth had gone very dry. 

“Where’s your brother?”

“Can’t come this year,” she replied. “He’s sick with Spattergroit. We had to submit an official documentation of the disease, and they sent someone from the Ministry out to confirm. You can check with them if you don’t believe me.”

His eyes narrowed. “I will decide who to talk with if I don’t believe you, Miss Weasley. It’s rather convenient, don’t you think?”

“Convenient? You think it’s convenient that my brother is sick? We think the fungus has already moved to his brain, and he’s likely to have permanent damage even if he does make a full recovery. If you want to go on being doubtful, I rather hope you’ll go see him for yourself and get sick as well!”

She ended her words with an indignant huff. Neville, thankfully, kept his head down and his eyes averted. The Death Eater held his gaze for a moment, and then turned to the other man on his right. “Check to confirm her story,” he said in an undertone. “Alright, Miss Weasley. We shall see if you’re telling the truth. Go ahead for now.”

Ginny wanted to say what she was really thinking, but she swallowed her words. It would not do for her to get into trouble before she even got to the castle, and anyway, the look Neville gave her clearly reflected his desire to be reunited with Luna. So she smiled, a painful and forced grimace on her face, and followed Neville onto the train. They struggled down the narrow hallway, shouldering past a few unnaturally quiet students before reaching a compartment near the back of the train. Sitting on the floor of the train car, amidst a pile of her father’s magazines, was Luna Lovegood. She looked up at their arrival, blue eyes crinkling with delight.

“Ginny!” she exclaimed, pulling herself up to give a hug. “So good to see you!”

For a moment, Ginny lost herself in the embrace. Luna was an expert at giving good hugs, no matter the circumstance, and she had been there the night everything went downhill. Luna understood. Luna always understood.

“Was the rest of your summer okay?” Ginny asked the Ravenclaw. 

“Strangely quiet. Daddy says that the Heliopaths are rampaging because Scimgeour didn’t have a chance to tell the Death Eaters to feed them chicken and not beef before he was murdered. Heliopaths shoot fire fifty feet in the air when they are angry, so I imagine the Ministry is having to prioritize. Was everything okay at your house?”

“No,” Ginny admitted. “We need to talk.”

“Let’s wait until we get moving at least,” Neville said cautiously, glancing out into the hallway.

Ginny scoffed, the first real display of discontent that she had allowed herself all day. “What do they think they’re playing at, taking up all this time? It’s five after eleven, and they haven’t even gotten everyone on the train yet. Idiots.”

“They’re looking for Harry,” said Luna quietly.

“Do they really think he’s that dumb?” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“I don’t think they know him at all,” replied Neville. His arms were crossed, and he looked morose. “They’ve just been told to keep their eyes out for him.”

“Where is Ronald?” Luna asked, as if suddenly realizing that Ginny’s older brother was mysteriously absent.

Ginny stared pointedly at her friend. “He’s sick. Came down with a terrible case of Spattergroit.”

“Ah,” said Luna. “Quite dreadful. I’ll send him a card.”

They lapsed into a nervous silence. Confined in such a small space, Ginny felt agitated. She sat on the floor next to Luna, who had gone back to sorting her magazines, but she could feel the same uncomfortable energy mirrored in her posture. Neville tapped his foot, watching every person who walked past their compartment. The minutes continued to slip away. It was now twenty after eleven, and they had still not left the station. 

“Attention all,” said a grumpy voice over the intercom system. “This is the last call. The train will be departing in five minutes time. Anyone not on board will be regretfully left behind.”

“Funny,” Neville said humorlessly. “Looks like the conductor is unhappy as well.”

There was a scramble outside the train as the Death Eaters rushed to get everyone on board. Ginny watched them push frightened first years through the door, hastily checking off names as if their lives depended on it...which it probably did, now that she seriously considered it. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not known to be forgiving when it came to careless mistakes. Ginny knew that from experience. 

Neville frowned when one of the Death Eaters pulled the door shut behind them. “Are they coming with us?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Luna replied. “Didn’t you see the newspaper this morning?”

“I only looked at the headlines. Didn’t feel up to reading anything.”

“They are a task force to protect us,” said Luna. “Apparently, our new Headmaster Snape hired them along with two professors.”

“Two?” Neville asked. “Defense Against the Dark Arts and what other subject?”

Ginny exchanged a look with Luna. “Muggle Studies. Professor Burbage retired early.”

“Retired or... _retired_?” he asked in a careful voice.

“I think the latter.”

The train jolted forward, letting out a piercing whistle. Ginny pushed herself up into a seat and watched the crowd of parents wave from their required distance. She couldn’t see her father in the group, but then again, he had probably already gone back to work. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Working for the Ministry meant that he was under constant supervision, and he couldn’t afford to look suspicious with so many people watching his every move.

Neville finally pulled the door shut until the latch clicked, muffling the sound of voices in the corridor. “We can talk now.”

“No, we can’t,” Ginny said. She had drawn her wand. “ _Muffliato_ — now we can talk.”

“What spell was that?” asked Luna, also pulling herself up to sit on a seat.

Ginny was in the process of pulling out a deck of cards from the depths of her bag. _Weasley Wizard Wheezes_ was emblazoned on the front of the package, and she ripped off the shrink wrap that encased it. “It muffles conversation so nobody can overhear what you are saying. Ron taught it to me over the summer. Cards anyone? Looks less suspicious.”

“Where is Ron?” Neville asked.

“With Harry. Where else would he be?”

“And Hermione?”

“Same. Although the cover story is that we don’t know where she is at all. She’s gone missing, so we assume that she left the country with her parents.”

Luna shuffled the cards. Her normal dreamy expression was somewhat withdrawn today. “Like Hermione Jean Granger would ever flee the country at a time like this…”

“I know,” Neville replied. “It’s extremely unbelievable.”

Ginny frowned at them. “Which is why we’re just going to shrug and shake our heads. If they think we know anything, you can guarantee they’ll try to force it out of us.”

“I’d like to see them try,” came Neville’s mumbled reply. Ginny chose to ignore that.

“Philosopher’s Folly?” Luna asked, referencing a popular card game. 

They shrugged, and she passed out the cards: three face-down, three face-up, and three in the hand for each of them. Ginny almost laughed at her options. She always had rotten luck with this card game, and she was sure it was the perfect metaphor for her life. “Anyway, Luna, how did you and your dad get away from the Death Eaters after Bill’s wedding?”

“Got lucky, I suppose,” she said. “After Dad had that fight, I took him to your garden to see the gnomes. We heard screaming, and he did not want to take any chances. So we left immediately.” 

Neville played the first card. “Wait...what happened at the wedding?”

“Towards the end of the reception, we got word from Kingsley Shacklebolt that the Ministry had fallen,” Ginny said, shivering at the memory. “It was at that point that all our protection spells broke. A bunch of Death Eaters and Ministry worker — honestly, they’re all the same now — just stormed the wedding. There was dueling, and a bunch of people got hurt. Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to get away, but it was close.”

“You’re supposed to play a lower card there,” Luna said.

Ginny switched the cards moodily. “Right.”

“They were searching for Harry?”

“Yep,” she said. “Wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore.”

Surprisingly, Luna laughed. Ginny was used to her friend laughing at odd moments, but she could not find the humor in those words at all. In fact, the whole situation made her feel slightly nauseous. She waited patiently until Luna was calm once more before giving her a pointed look. The Ravenclaw brushed the tears from her eyes and then said, in a slightly breathless voice: “It was so predictable, wasn’t it? Daddy guessed what they were going to do long before it happened. He called it poor journalism. _The Daily Prophet_ really hurt their long-term chances.”

“I don’t really care about the newspaper, Luna,” said Ginny grumpily. 

“Of course,” said Luna. “But don’t you get it? By going down such a drastic route, they’ve created confusion and doubt for their readers. We’ve had an increase in sales since that printing. _The Quibbler_ only prints the truth.”

“Isn’t your dad worried?” Neville asked.

“The truth is more important than safety.”

They continued to half-heartedly play cards for the better part of an hour. Outside the train window, the busy streets of London faded away to suburban houses, and then to fields of green pastures dotted with sheep. The pale sun continued to struggle behind the clouds, but the sinister mist had still not dissipated in the warmth of late summer. Somewhere in the far distance, Ginny could see what looked like a pair of Dementors gliding along an empty country road. She had heard the reports that they were growing in numbers, but this was the first time she had seen a real one since her second year. 

They looked disconcerting; a blot on the otherwise lovely English countryside. For the most part, the dark creatures ignored them zooming past in the scarlet steam engine, but for a split second, Ginny could have sworn one of them looked in her direction. A chill ran down her spine, and the memory of a cold voice in her head forced her to look away in fear.

Meanwhile, Luna was counting cards.

“Wait,” she said. “I think we skipped a turn.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t really paying attention either,” replied Neville. “Maybe we should play something else? Ginny?”

She blinked, jumping at the sound of her own name. Unable to keep up with the speed of the train, the Dementors were no longer visible through the window. Neither Neville nor Luna had noticed, but Ginny had sinking feeling that it would not be the last time she saw them. 

“Yeah sure, whatever,” she said. 

“Are you okay?” Luna asked.

Ginny thought about the question. For a split second, she had heard the voice of Tom in her head. Quiet and unassuming, it was the exact essence of self-assurance. It had been years since she had heard his voice. In fact, the last time she had heard it had been when the Dementors stormed the Quidditch match four years ago, nearly killing Harry in the process. 

“I’m fine, sorry,” she said. “I got distracted by something outside.”

“Really? Was it one of those Heliopaths? I told you they were misbehaving.”

Ginny couldn’t remember what a Heliopath was supposed to be, so she just shook her head. “No, sorry. It was just some sheep. I’ll be right back, though. I need to get a drink for my lunch.”

Neville nodded, but he did not look very reassured. Ginny had the distinct impression that he saw straight through her fib, and she avoided his gaze while she slipped through the door of their compartment. Not many other students were lingering in the corridor, but there was a window open, and a fresh breeze tugged at her clothes. She took a deep breath and momentarily closed her eyes.

Ginny had been worried about seeing Dementors, not because she was weak right now, but because they made her think back to that one time when she had actually considered herself to be weak. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, but there was still that dark corner of her mind that was susceptible to irrational fears. Tom had done that to her. Ginny was probably the only person on this train to understand the true power and influence that You-Know-Who had over people. In five years, it felt like the entirety of Hogwarts had all but forgotten that she had been forced to do horrible things under his possession. 

She found the food trolley closer toward the front of the train, and Ginny waited patiently behind a few other students as the lady finished dolling out sweets to a few nervous first years. George had generously given her some pocket money that morning for the ride, and she pulled out the handful of coins from her money purse. One of the Knuts dropped to the floor and rolled under the foot of the person in front of her. 

“Hey,” she said, tapping the girl on the shoulder. “Can you get that for me?”

The girl flinched and recoiled from her hand, but she quickly bent to retrieve the coin anyway. It was at this moment that Ginny realized she had never seen this girl before in her life, even though they were close in age. This newcomer was small and mousey, with straight blonde hair. Behind thick glasses, her eyes were brown. She avoided Ginny’s gaze as she handed back the coin. 

“Thank you,” Ginny said. “I’m not sure if we’ve met before. What’s your name?”

“Heather,” she replied in a timid voice. “I’m Heather Barnett.”

“Nice to meet you, Heather. My name is Ginny Weasley. Are you new?”

The boy in front of them tried to purchase thirty chocolate frogs at once, and when the food trolley lady protested, he put up a fuss. Heather shrank away from the raised voices. “Yeah, I was homeschooled.”

“Oh right,” Ginny said. “It’s the law now.”

Heather nodded, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. Ginny felt inexplicably sorry for her, all alone on a train to a school she felt no personal connection toward. Even faced with the horror of this upcoming year, at least Ginny knew and loved Hogwarts unlike anything else. Plus, she had Neville and Luna, and the three of them could face anything the Death Eaters had to throw at them.

“Look,” she continued. “If you ever need someone to hang out with or talk to, you should come find me, no questions asked.”

“Thanks,” said Heather.

“Do you know what house you’ll be in?” Ginny asked.

“No idea. They said I’d get sorted with the first years.”

“Oh,” Ginny said, trying not to cringe. That sounded humiliating. “It’s super easy. Don’t worry, and don’t let anyone try to trick you. All you do is put on the magical hat, and it tells you what house you are supposed to be in. Simple and quick.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

The boy in front of them left with the much more reasonable amount of fifteen chocolate frogs, and Heather paid for her own sweets with a handful of coins from the pocket of her robes. Ginny watched her walk slowly back down the corridor; the girl’s steps were uneven in the swaying train car and her posture timid. The Hogwarts Express rounded a corner, and Heather Barnett disappeared from view. Ginny turned her eyes back to the food trolley and reached for a bottle of ice cold pumpkin juice. 

“Well, if it isn’t Weasley,” said a voice.

Ginny’s jerked her head up at the sound of her name, suddenly very conscious of the fact that her wand was still tucked up the sleeve of her jacket. Pansy Parkinson was flanked by her usual tittering clique of girlfriends, including several of the Slytherin girls from Ginny’s year. Last term, they would not have dared approach her while she was on top of the world. Then again, Ginny had snagged the Quidditch victory and kissed the most popular boy in school. Times had certainly changed. 

“Good afternoon, Pansy,” she replied coldly. The food trolley lady was looking back and forth between the two girls in apprehension.

“I see you are cozying up to the fresh meat. Are you that desperate to find new friends?”

Ginny paid for her drink and dropped the bottle into her bag. If there was going to be a fight, she wanted quick access to her wand. Heck, even if there was not going to be any action, she wanted the option anyway. “Just making small talk. It’s called being nice. You should try it.”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Pansy asked, a triumphant smile on her pug-nosed face.

The cash register on the trolley cart dinged loudly, and Ginny was handed back her change. The lady cleared her throat. “If you two are going to fight, I would suggest you do it elsewhere. It’s too crowded in here for you to keep backing up the line.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, Pansy,” Ginny replied, as if she hadn’t heard the older woman. “We broke up in June, don’t you remember? It’s old news. I thought you of all people would know that. Don’t you consider gossip to be a higher priority than your schoolwork?”

Pansy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just mad that he broke up with you first. Where is he hiding? How come they haven’t found him yet?”

“Do you think I’d be allowed to walk around freely if I knew that? Speaking of which, where is your boyfriend?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” snapped the Slytherin, although her face had flushed with color. Ginny had hit a nerve; it was common knowledge among the girls at Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy and Pansy had also broken up at the end of last year.

“Probably not,” Ginny replied, shrugging. “Although he probably has a better selection of girls now. I bet raping and pillaging comes as an added bonus when you’re a…”

Pansy Parkinson pulled out her wand with an angry exclamation, but Ginny was faster. If there was one thing she had learned from all those D.A. lessons with Harry, it was how to disarm. Pansy’s wand ricocheted off the wall with a shower of sparks.

“You’re on the wrong side, Weasley,” Pansy said, her face white with anger.

“Don’t come near me at all this semester,” Ginny said warningly. “Don’t talk to me, don’t talk about me, don’t even think about me...or I’ll hex you so bad you won’t know what hit you. I mean it.”

The lady behind the cart was trying her best not to notice the situation, even though a wand had come dangerously close to striking her in the head. Ginny, who didn’t want to wait around until someone fetched the Death Eaters, hurried off back to the compartment. She was still holding her wand when she slid back through the door. Neville looked up. 

“I was worried. What took you so long?”

“Long line,” she mumbled. Neville and Luna were no longer alone; several other people had joined them. Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnegan, Terry Boot, and the Patil twins all looked up at her as she entered. It was very crowded in their compartment now. Ginny squeezed into the seat next to Luna, sitting hip to hip with her best friend. 

“Neville told us that Ron’s sick,” Lavender said.

There was an awkward pause while they waited for Ginny’s response. She crossed her arms, still sour from her earlier confrontation with Pansy, and nodded. “Yep, too sick to come to school.”

“So are we just going to speak in riddles this year?” Ernie Macmillan asked loudly.

“Maybe,” she replied. “Or maybe I’m just reiterating the fact that you need to keep your big mouth shut and not tell everyone that he’s on some dangerous mission.”

“Oh,” said Ernie quietly. Ginny had always had mixed feelings about the Hufflepuff, who, according to the badge on his chest, had been named Head Boy for the year. His heart was in the right place, of course, but he was pompous to the point of being annoying. They were, however, lucky that he was in a position of authority. His unquestionable loyalty might come in handy throughout the school year. Ginny quickly amended her facial expression, trying not to seem as angry as her words had conveyed. 

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough day.”

“Yeah, it’s been a horrible day for us too,” said Hannah. “Justin wasn’t allowed to come back to school. We only just found out.”

Ernie’s face fell. He looked quite sad. “I hope he’s okay.”

“The Creevey brothers weren’t allowed back either.”

“And Dean,” Seamus quickly added. He looked nearly as upset about this fact as Ernie did about Justin. Neville patted his one remaining roommate on the arm in sympathy.

Ginny glanced around at them, noticing the tightness and the desperation in their eyes. “It’s that stupid law. There are a bunch of new homeschooled students on this train who have never been to Hogwarts before. I met a girl around our age, and she was completely alone. That’s not fair! I don’t know how the government has been able to force this much injustice, but I think everyone is suffering.”

“You don’t suppose they are hurting the Muggleborns, do you?” Parvati Patil asked quietly.

Neville looked at Ginny, who shrugged in a helpless sort of way.

“I hope not.”

They lapsed into a silence at those words, each of them imagining the horrors that could befall their friends if the government actually wanted to hurt all the Muggleborns. _It couldn’t be true_ , Ginny thought, but then again, she had already seen enough evidence to suggest the worst. Around her birthday, she had received a letter from Colin saying that he would be “living with relatives” until further notice, but she had no idea where that could be. She wondered if he and his little brother Dennis were still safe, and if they had somehow managed to avoid the inquiries Ginny’s father often talked about at the dinner table. The thought of Colin stealing magic was preposterous; the boy didn’t have a single maleficent bone in his body.

“Well,” Ernie said, clearing his throat. “I’m sure we are all thinking the same thing right now…”

_Really?_ Ginny thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“...and I was wondering if we were going to do anything about it.”

Neville blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean,” said Ernie. He was trying to be discreet, but his tone of voice came across as unintentionally superfluous. Luna, who had been watching the clouds roll past outside their window, turned her head to finally look at them. Her large blue eyes were unblinking.

“The D.A.?” she asked.

Ginny might have imagined it, but every single person in their compartment sat up a little straighter. She glanced across the way at Neville, who, judging by the mix of emotions on his face, had also been considering that very thought.

“But we can’t do it without…” she said. Although the words started out in an indignant rush, they died before she even got to Harry’s name. The thought of holding meetings without him felt almost like blasphemy.

“Sure we can!” said Seamus while Terry Boot nodded enthusiastically on his left.

Lavender frowned. “But it was Harry’s idea in the first place.”

“Technically, it was Ron and Hermione,” Ginny added. “But that’s not the point. We don’t have a teacher anymore.”

“Plus,” Neville said. “We don’t even know how bad things are going to be. For all we know, this could just be a very uneventful year for us.”

Ginny thought that might have been stretching it, but she could tell that Neville did not fully believe his words either. They had already seen enough proof just that morning while boarding the train. In fact, the evidence was walking the corridors right now, prowling with dark looks and long sleeves that covered sinister tattoos. She shuddered involuntarily, feeling as though the air had dropped by several degrees.

It was not just her, though. Hannah Abbott unconsciously rubbed her bare arms and Seamus shivered. Ginny stood up with an exclamation, but before she had the chance to draw her wand, the train pitched backwards as though it had been jerked in the opposite direction. Ginny fell back against her seat, landing on Luna and the Patil Twins. On the other side, Neville had fallen onto the floor. 

The train stuttered to a halt, wobbling side-to-side as the occupants were thrown around violently. When they finally came to a complete stop, Ginny could hear cries of pain out in the corridor. She hoped no one was seriously injured.

The intercom buzzed overhead. They could hear the conductor swearing and shouting at someone in the background. “Attention, attention,” said a smooth voice. “This is a mandatory search for any dangerous items being smuggled on board. Please stand and follow all instructions.”

Ginny untangled herself from Luna, standing just in time to help Neville to his feet. The sky had been growing steadily darker, but now a cold wind rattled the windows as clouds rolled overhead. A black shape darted outside the window, moving too quickly to discern. Lavender let out a little shriek of fear.

“Dementors!” shouted Neville.

And then Ginny’s vision went dark.


	2. The Sorting Hat's Warning

### CHAPTER TWO: The Sorting Hat’s Warning

_Ginevra…_

_His voice is in her ear, but she is the only person who can hear it. It’s like her ears are ringing, and she paws at her neck and her skin and her head because it won’t ever go away. Stupid girl, why does she keep fighting? Even though it hurts so bad, she can’t find any relief because it’s not a physical spot that’s hurting her...it’s something ethereal and above. Nobody notices how she tilts her head and bats at invisible flies. She stares at people, and they stare right back but they don’t see what’s really going on inside. Maybe she went to class, or maybe she’s in class...going to class? It doesn’t matter. They’re going to close the school. It’s exactly what he wanted. Oh, and right under Dumbledore’s nose again...what a fool! All she wants to do is scream and scream for help, but he won’t let her. Tom is like a shadow hanging over her. He’s so heavy and the sheer weight of him chokes out her voice._

_Ginevra, obey me…_

_She slams her eyes shut in the hopes that he would be angry or upset or SOMETHING. Tom never loses control. He’s cold and calculating and precise. He never makes a mistake. No, he will not make a mistake this time. How could he, Lord Voldemort, lose to an infant child? She could throw the book into a volcano, and he’d still be here in her head. There? Where? Nothing will destroy the diary, he’s taken steps to prevent that! Foolish girl won’t ever shut up! He’s constant, drilling his way through every barrier until she’s nothing and he’s everything. Tom...she hates him, and yet she is him. He is on a mission, and he will succeed...has succeeded?_

_Ginevra, NOW._

_Brown eyes flutter open, but she’s not the one looking through those eyes. When she finally comes to, it’s much later...is later? She doesn’t remember how she got here...there? Words don’t make sense anymore. Time is irrelevant. She looks into the mirror of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and breaks down. There’s a tiny girl looking back at him. Pathetic. Weak. How dare she cry? Her blood is pure but her soul is weak. Nothing will stop him now. Soon she’ll be nothing more than memory._

_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever..._

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Ginny’s eyes snapped open just in time to see the hooded figure in the hallway. A grotesque, rotting hand was resting on the handle of the door, and it was so cold that it felt as though the marrow in her bones had frozen solid. The monster sucked every little bit of warmth and happiness from the air, and the blank stretch of cloth that covered its face turned slightly toward them. Fear. Concentrated, paralyzing fear. Ginny tried to think, to draw forth the energy needed for a Patronus Charm, but her brain was foggy and full of horrible memories.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the Dementor continued down the hallway, taking with it the frozen wave of agony. Despite the obvious threat, they were safe. The Death Eaters would not harm Pureblood children without direct orders from You-Know-Who. That idea surfaced in Ginny’s head, and although it was not exactly a pleasant thought, it acted as a sort of protection against the Dementor’s power. She regained control of her senses. She was still standing, but only just. Neville had his arms around her to keep her upright, but he was barely standing himself. She could feel him trembling, and his skin was slick with a cold sweat. Her arms automatically reached up to return the hug. 

“Sunlight,” he muttered. “The smell of fresh earth...plants growing in the greenhouse...the smile on mum’s face…”

It took her a second to recognize that those were his happy thoughts. Ginny tried to think of her own happy thoughts, but her mind struggled to pull memories up from the frozen sections of her brain.

_Victory laps after a Quidditch game, the Halloween Feast at Hogwarts, Arnold’s tongue when he eats peanut butter, baking with Mum on Christmas Eve, Fred and George in their fantastic shop, Harry — his guarded smile and kind eyes…._

She couldn’t think about Harry. They would know.

“Is everybody alright?” Ginny asked. She pulled away from Neville even though she was still shaking terribly. 

“No,” replied Seamus.

Padma and Parvati were clutching each other desperately, Hannah Abbott was crying silent tears into her handkerchief, and Terry Boot looked as though he might be sick. They were not given a chance to recover properly, because within moments, the door crashed open. Several Death Eaters crammed their way inside. 

“Everyone face the wall! Hands on your head, feet apart!”

They were all too shocked to refuse compliance. Ginny’s heart was pounding frantically in her chest, though whether it was from fear or anger, she did not know. It was still cold enough that she could see her breath misting in the air. The Death Eaters passed behind them, scanning the compartment with some sort of beeping wand. It brushed uncomfortably close to the back of Ginny’s legs.

“He isn’t here!” Neville spat out daringly.

There was a tense moment of silence, and then the sound of a scuffle broke out along with Neville’s muffled yelp of pain. Ginny chanced a look, turning around to see her friend on the floor of the compartment. Apparently someone had kicked in the back of his legs, instantly disarming him. One of the Death Eaters grabbed her arm roughly and turned her back around to face the wall. She sputtered like an angry cat. 

“This is for your own good,” said the one standing over Neville. “We do not take any threat to your safety lightly. The rest of you, do not sit down until the all clear has been given. Do not leave this compartment until the train has resumed moving.”

The door slid back open, and they left one by one. The Death Eater who still held Ginny’s arm in a death grip spun her back around.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, pushing her forward. 

She only had a second to glance down at the figure on the ground that was Neville before she was forced out into the hallway. The other Death Eaters were antagonizing the students in the next compartment, but Ginny and her guard did not pause to watch. 

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“We have a few questions for you.”

His grip on her arm was painful, and she tried to struggle but to no avail. “Great. You still haven’t answered my question. Where are you taking me?”

“To speak to the Head.”

Ginny had a horrible thrill of fear, because her first immediate thought was that You-Know-Who must be at the front of the train. She forced herself to think logically, because there was no way he would involve himself in the affairs of students. Her captor led her to the very front of the train, where no students were allowed. She caught a glimpse of the engine room and saw the conductor, still ranting and raving to the man standing guard. They were already pretty late getting to Hogwarts as it was, and they still had a couple of hours left at least. Ginny was instructed to sit on a bench, and she obliged, but not without a determined scowl. 

Another man entered the room. He was tall, thin, and balding. Ginny forced herself to meet his eyes. Now that she had a good look at the guy, she recognized him as one of the group that had fought with them at the Department of Mysteries over a year ago. He was also there the night the Death Eaters crashed her brother’s wedding, and he had placed Bill in handcuffs for a few terrifying hours when they wouldn’t talk. She wondered if he knew just how close they had been to crossing paths with Harry Potter that night. 

It was at this point that Ginny remembered that some of You-Know-Who’s followers practiced Legilimency, so she looked away.

“First things first,” said the man. “Do you know who I am?”

Ginny did, but she kept her mouth shut.

“I’m Elias Jugson. I’m an Auror tasked with protecting the students at Hogwarts.”

_No, you’re a Death Eater, and you certainly weren’t an Auror the last time I checked._ She inclined her head in the briefest approximation of a nod. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jugson. I’m Ginny Weasley.”

“Where is Harry Potter?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped.

“Did he stay at your house at some point this summer?”

“No. I haven’t seen him since June.”

“Did your brother see him at all this summer?”

She shook her head. “Ron started feeling sick not long after he got home from school. We didn’t realize what was wrong with him for another couple of weeks. Kept thinking it was a heat rash. There wasn’t much time for him to go visiting friends.”

Jugson frowned. The overhead light reflected on his scalp, which was poorly concealed beneath a thin, feeble comb-over. “You do realize that Spattergroit is highly contagious, Miss Weasley. I’m surprised that you haven’t gotten sick.”

“My mother quarantined Ron as soon as she realized, and you are less likely to get the fungus if you shower frequently...and I’ve been showering after practicing Quidditch every day. I guess I just got lucky.”

“And you’ve been inoculated now?” he asked, and Ginny could see the slight hint of revulsion on his face. The fear of Spattergroit was working in their favor. No one wanted to pry much into the matter.

“Yeah, I’m clear.”

“Okay. So, you and your brother haven’t seen Harry Potter since last June? Humor me for a while longer: did he mention any plans when you last saw him? Perhaps he might’ve told you where he is hiding right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why would he tell me where he was hiding?”

“Well,” said Jugson, running a tongue eagerly over his dry lips. “We heard an interesting rumor that the two of you were dating last spring.”

Ginny froze; she felt as though the solid bench beneath her had disintegrated into dust, and she was floating against her will towards the gigantic boiler that powered the train. Harry’s great big — idiotic — plan to protect her had failed in less than three hours. Obviously someone friendly with the Death Eaters would have let that piece of information slip at the first opportunity. They definitely hadn’t made any effort to hide their relationship last year. It was just the sort of information that You-Know-Who would have valued. Ginny briefly entertained the thought of lying, but it was clear from the disgusting look on Elias Jugson’s face that he knew the answer already. 

“Yes,” said Ginny. “We dated last spring.”

“I take it from your tone that you are not currently dating?”

“No, of course not. He dumped me. He said I wasn’t good enough for him.”

Jugson still looked skeptical. “How do I know you are telling the truth?”

“Ask anybody. It wasn’t exactly a secret. He dumped me at Professor Dumbledore’s funeral. Would you believe I broke up with my previous boyfriend to get with him? I didn’t think he would be so cruel.”

“So you don’t know any of his secrets?”

“No,” said Ginny, quite sober. This was the truth. She didn’t know much about Harry at all, only the bits and pieces that she had picked up from proximity alone. He was extremely secretive, and their relationship hadn’t lasted long enough to progress to a deeper level of trust. “We only dated for a month.”

“Yet, him and your brother are friends?”

Ginny crossed her arms, frowning. “That’s why Harry didn’t come over this summer. Ron was mad at him for messing me around.”

There was a long pause in which Jugson studied her carefully. Ginny was still playing the part of an obstinate teenager, so she stared moodily out the window, bouncing her leg up and down to show her agitation. She knew that she was a solid actor; it had saved her from detention on more than one occasion, but the stakes had never seemed so high. She hoped these Death Eaters were not skilled enough to know Legilimency. She also prayed that they wouldn’t look too closely, because her heart was pounding like a jack rabbit’s inside her chest. 

“Miss Weasley,” he said. “You do know that we have ways to find the truth if we suspect that you might be lying.”

“Are you threatening me?” she asked quietly.

He considered this. “No...unless your brother doesn’t actually have Spattergroit and you know where Harry Potter is currently hiding.”

“I’m not lying,” Ginny reiterated. “My brother is very sick, and I no longer care about Harry Potter. Dating him was a mistake.”

Elias Jugson turned for a moment to talk with a few of the other Death Eaters outside in the hallway. Apparently, they had completed their circuit around the train, and one of them shouted to the conductor to continue. With as much grumbling as possible, the old man tapped his wand on the dash. The train whistle sounded, and it shuddered back to life. It rolled forward, picking up speed, but the steam was so thick this close to the engine that Ginny could barely see outside the window.

“Are we almost done?” she asked her captors. 

Jugson gave a short laugh. “No, Miss Weasley. We’ve gotten complaints that you’ve been picking fights on the train. We want you to stay here for the rest of the ride.”

“Fine,” she snapped, and resolved herself to silence for the rest of the ride.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

When the train finally pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Ginny jumped up without waiting to hear if she was free to go. She was tired, and her stomach was growling painfully. It was almost eight o’clock in the evening. All she had had to eat that day was a smushed roast beef sandwich and single bottle of pumpkin juice. Yet, there was a renewed energy in her step that had less to do with excitement and more to do with anxiety. She wove her way through the crowd of departing students and hurried back to the compartment she had shared with Neville and Luna earlier that day.

“There you are!” Luna said when Ginny yanked open the door.

Neville looked immensely relieved to see her. “What happened?”

“What did you expect? I got interrogated,” she replied shortly, unzipping her Muggle jacket. She then pulled down the blinds of the compartment window. “Neville, turn around. I’ve got to change into my school robes real quick.”

“Y-you know, I could just leave,” he said, spinning around so fast that he nearly toppled over.

Ginny imagined that if she could see his face, it would be scarlet. “Nonsense. I know you would never look.”

She quickly changed into her school uniform, fingers slipping as she hastily buttoned up her blouse. She pulled her robes on over her head, not even stopping to check if her ponytail had completely survived the wardrobe change. Arnold the pygmy puff squeaked desperately from his cage.

“I know, I know, Arnold!” she said to him, opening the cage door. He hopped onto her outstretched hand. “You’re just going to have to be patient with me, alright?”

“Are you ready?” Neville asked, still facing the compartment door.

“Yeah.” She slipped her tiny pet into the pocket of her robes, and then proceeded to straighten her school tie. Arnold snuggled against her hip, chirping happily. “So, I forgot to mention this earlier; guess who I ran into while waiting for the food trolley.”

“Pansy Parkinson,” Neville answered. “Luna and I ran into her not long after the train started back up again. She gave us grief.”

Ginny frowned. “So why didn’t they haul you off to the front of the train?”

“Maybe because we knew when to shut up, Ginny…”

She yanked open the compartment door and stepped out into the hallway. The last of the students were trickling onto the platform, and they hastily joined the line. Neville’s toad Trevor was croaking loudly from the pocket of his trousers. 

“Yeah, well, she can kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt for all I care…”

“Sorry, Gin, but you probably asked for it,” Luna said.

Ginny blinked. That was not something she had anticipated from Luna, and it felt a little bit of a slap hearing it from her. She chose not to comment on it other than a simple click of her tongue and followed the other students out onto the dark platform. It was late, later than they would have normally arrived, and the chilly air was damp and uncomfortable. Ginny pulled her robes closer about her to keep both herself and Arnold warm. The Death Eaters watched them disembark, and she stubbornly marched right past them. Elias Jugson’s eyes followed her across the platform. 

“Firs’ years!” came a familiar cry.

“Shit,” Ginny said, and she ducked out of view behind several taller students.

Neville and Luna followed. “What?” 

Ginny scanned the crowd for the massive professor and found him easily amidst the timid younger students. He was at least three times bigger than them. Although Hagrid wore his usual friendly smile, Ginny could see that he wasn’t really paying attention to the task at hand. In fact, his dark eyes were desperately searching the crowd, obviously looking for the three students he was sure to never find. “It’s Hagrid. If he sees us, he’ll probably ask where they are, and I don’t have the heart to lie to him right now.”

“Good point,” Neville said. “Plus, it’ll make us look suspicious.”

“Poor Hagrid,” Luna added sympathetically.

Still crouching low, the three of them hurried to the carriages and clambered inside. Ginny took the seat next to Neville while they waited for a fourth occupant. When the door opened again, she did not expect to see Heather Barnett, but the blonde girl blinked at them owlishly from the doorway. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“No,” said Neville politely. “Go right ahead.”

“Heather, this is Neville and Luna,” Ginny said, indicating her friends. Now that the carriage was full, it broke away from the line and trotted toward the castle. She could hear the thestral’s hooves striking the stones in the cobblestone pathway.

“Nice to meet you,” Heather murmured in reply. She seemed unsure of how to acknowledge Luna, who was staring unblinkingly at the newcomer. Amused, Ginny tried not to let it show on her face; her friend often had that effect on strangers.

“I’m afraid I don’t know you,” Neville said. “Are you one of the homeschooled students?”

“Yes.”

If he seemed fazed by her lack of in-depth communication, he did not show it. “Oh, then you probably got to design your own curriculum growing up, right? How much Herbology have you had?”

“Not much,” Heather replied. “We didn’t have much access to wild magical plants at my house in York, and my mother thought only the bare minimum was necessary. I’m probably far behind.”

“Don’t worry! I’m going to be working with Professor Sprout — that’s the Herbology professor — in several of her lessons this year, so I can make sure that you’re on the same page as everyone else!”

“Neville sure does love his plants,” Ginny said in a teasing, but affectionate tone of voice.

Heather smiled awkwardly, “So are you two dating?”

Even Luna seemed to realize that this was a faux-pas, because she covered up a snicker with a poorly timed cough. Ginny felt her face go hot, but she fought to maintain her smile. “No, we’re just really good friends.”

“Plus, Ginny already has a boyfriend,” Neville added quickly.

“No, I don’t,” she said, clipping the end of her sentence with inflection. “We broke up, remember?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t — ouch!”

Ginny had elbowed him in the ribs a little harder than she had intended. He gave her a hurt look, which she returned with a rather combative glare. “What Neville means is that I had a boyfriend, but he broke up with me, _and it’s still a rather sore subject._ ”

“Oh,” said Heather. She was looking increasingly uncomfortable in their presence. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s quite alright,” Ginny replied. “It takes a lot more than a stupid break up to knock me down. I just don’t think it’s really an appropriate conversation to be having right now.”

To her horror, however, Heather’s face seemed to crumple. Tears shone in her brown eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you! It’s just...Oh, I screwed this all up! I must sound like a complete idiot. Nobody is going to want to be my friend at all!”

“No, that’s not it!” Neville said quickly, shooting Ginny an angry look. “Don’t mind us. We’ve just had a really long day today, and we’re very tired. You’re going to make plenty of friends at Hogwarts, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Luna agreed enthusiastically. “Most people just call me Loony Lovegood and steal my belongings, but I’ve still got Neville and Ginny...and if I can make friends, you can certainly make friends too!”

This didn’t seem to be particularly reassuring to Heather, but she nodded anyway, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her sleeves. Maybe it was just exhaustion, but Ginny was becoming annoyed. The other girl’s naivety in the midst of a war was extremely unbecoming, especially after everything that had happened to Ginny this summer. To put a halt to further conversation, she occupied herself by pulling Arnold out from within the depths of her pocket. He crawled over her lap, sniffing the air curiously. 

“We’ll be able to see the castle soon,” said Luna, and she leaned her head and shoulders out of the carriage window to stare up at the sky.

“Should...should she be doing that?” Heather asked.

Neville shrugged. “She’s fine. 

They reached the top of the hill, and then Hogwarts castle came fully into view. Ginny, who was still playing with Arnold, secretly watched Heather’s expression as the towers loomed overhead. The other girl’s eyes grew round, and her mouth dropped open in silent surprise. 

The carriages slowed to a halt right outside of the front gates, and Ginny stepped outside. Arnold was safely back in her pocket where he belonged, and she held the door open for the rest of her group. Heather almost tripped on the way down, so intent she was staring up at the castle.

“Do we walk the rest of the way?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Ginny replied. “Best keep your eyes on the ground. The path is a little uneven.”

Hogwarts castle towered over them, lights flickering in the windows as if in greeting. They stepped over the threshold into the open foyer of the Entrance Hall, where it was instantly warm and inviting. Ginny breathed in deeply. The castle had a particular smell, like stone and dust and oil burning lamps. She forgot what it smelled like every summer, but the rush of memories upon walking through the front door was enough to make her feel safe. Hogwarts was home; maybe there were too many rooms and twisting corridors, maybe there were doors that only pretended to be doors, and maybe the first floor on the right side was higher than the third floor on the left side...but it never once betrayed a student.

“Where do I go?” asked Heather nervously.

Neville looked around. There were no teachers to greet them. Professor McGonagall was probably off collecting the first years from their boat ride, and she would not be present until the sorting ceremony later. The doors to the Great Hall were open wide, however, and the candles glittered like a thousand fireflies against the cloudy sky above. Most of the older students were already sitting down at the four house tables, too hungry to linger outside.

“Hold on,” Ginny said. “I see Ernie. Let’s ask him — Oi, Ernie!”

The blond Hufflepuff turned around. His face relaxed when he saw Ginny. “Oh, thank goodness. I was worried about you!”

“Thanks,” Ginny replied, consciously aware of the fact that Heather was looking curiously between them. “I’ll tell you about it later...but first, we were wondering where the new homeschooled students were supposed to go to get sorted?”

“Right, yes!” he said, noticing the new girl. “My name is Ernie Macmillan. I’m the Head Boy. Come with me, and I’ll show you where to go line up.”

“Bye, Heather!” Neville said.

“Yeah, good luck!” Ginny added. 

The other girl nodded, pale and shaky despite their reassurances. Ernie led her to one of the rooms off to the side, quickly disappearing into the crowd of students. Ginny briefly wondered what house she would be sorted into, probably not Gryffindor, but she did not stop to consider the matter for very long. Neville and Luna were already heading into the Great Hall. Now that they were no longer confined in the narrow train car, people were openly staring at them. Perhaps they had heard about Neville’s stubborn defiance during the search, or maybe they were just now remembering that Ginny had actually been Harry Potter’s girlfriend toward the end of last year. Whatever the reason, the other students did not bother to hide their whispering. Not that Ginny particularly cared. She was so hungry that her stomach ached and her limbs felt weak. She kept thinking about the food that was undoubtedly piled high in the kitchen beneath them. 

“Don’t look now,” Neville said, turning around quickly. His face had gone white. “There’s Snape.”

Ginny couldn’t help it; she chanced a look. Severus Snape looked no different than when she had seen him last, sprinting past her during the battle in the astronomy tower. He sat in Dumbledore’s old seat at the head table, fingers laced together as he surveyed the students coming into the hall. He had not noticed them in particular, but his black eyes still glinted between the slimy curtains of his greasy hair. An inexplicable anger filled Ginny. She wanted to rush at him, hex him so thoroughly he’d be completely unrecognizable as the horrible man who had killed her beloved headmaster.

“Ginny, no!” Neville hissed, grabbing her arm. She had drawn her wand without really realizing what she was doing.

“I hate him,” she replied through gritted teeth. “I hate him so much.”

Luna touched her hand, bringing her back to reality in only the ways Luna knew how. “Some battles must wait, Ginny.”

It was a good thing they stopped her; the Carrow siblings had taken a seat on either side of Snape like two particularly ugly body guards. Amycus Carrow was a squat man with broad shoulders and a tree trunk of a body. He had a lopsided grin on his pale, doughy face, and eyes that sparkled with malicious intent inappropriate for a school teacher. His sister Alecto was built in much the same fashion. She had dark hair the color of wine, and a thin mouth that might never have smiled before. Their eyes swept over the students, and Ginny quickly shoved her wand back up the sleeve of her robes.

“Ten months,” Ginny groaned. “How are we supposed to survive the next ten months in this place?”

“The entire lifespan of a wrackspurt is only about three days,” Luna said brightly. “So if they can live out their entire life in three days, we can live ours in ten months.”

Neville frowned. “Thank you for those words of encouragement, Luna.”

“I suppose I could have worded that better,” she replied. “But I really should be headed to sit with the other Ravenclaws right now.”

Ginny hugged her. “You should...and yes, my dear, that was a horrible way to word that, but I know what you meant.”

“Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, alright?” Luna said to Neville when she finally pulled away. “Ginny doesn’t always think things through.”

“Got it.”

The three of them split up. Luna hurried off to the Ravenclaw table, while Ginny and Neville took a seat at the Gryffindor table. Seamus scooted over to make room for them. Now that they were all seated together, her beloved house seemed much smaller than it had in years previously. There were only a grand total of four seventh years now, and not very many more sixth years. Ginny looked down the table and waved to her fellow sixth year girls. Ida Smeek and Alannis Jackson smiled back, but they looked rather solemn. It was only then that Ginny remember their fourth roommate, Katie Anderson, was Muggleborn and had evidently not been invited back this year. 

“Hello, Ginny,” Seamus said. “Glad to see you’re still alive. Padma was convinced they’d thrown you off the train.”

“She was not,” Parvati replied in defense of her sister. “We were just concerned, that’s all.”

“I appreciate it,” Ginny said honestly. “I don’t suppose that will be the last time they try to interrogate me, though.”

Lavender looked at her seriously. “You better watch yourself, Ginny. Don’t go walking around on your own.”

“Thanks for the advice, Lavender, but I could have used it earlier. The last time I walked around this castle by myself I witnessed you and Ron. Scarred me for life.”

Parvati giggled, but her brother’s ex-girlfriend merely rolled her eyes. “Ron is so last year. Besides, he’s covered in a gross fungus now and I don’t do fungus.”

“He’s always been covered in fungus,” Ginny replied. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

Snape had finally glanced in their direction, his black eyes sliding over faces until they fell upon the youngest Weasley. She met his stare with one of her own, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible but still refusing to look away. After a moment, he broke the contact, turning to address tiny Professor Flitwick as he carried the stool with the Sorting Hat to its place before the head table. A hush fell over the crowd of students in anticipation.

“Five galleons it sings a song about being best mates with the Slytherins,” Seamus whispered to her.

“Hmm?” she replied distractedly, still staring at Snape. “Sure thing.”

Heads turned as Professor McGonagall, adorned in long emerald robes, came striding in with the first years. They were a timid and frightened bunch, staring about the enormous hall with pale faces. Ginny counted at least fifty of them, although she lost track when they huddled together at the front. This was still a rather large number, even despite the lack of Muggleborns; there had been no war when these students were born, unlike the current sixth and seventh years. Clustered in the back, standing awkwardly behind the first years, were the former homeschooled students. Heather was easy to spot. Her glasses glinted in the light from the candles, and she stood next to a rather tall boy who might have been a sixth or seventh year as well.

Ginny had known Professor McGonagall for five years now, but she had never known her Transfiguration Professor to look so withdrawn. The lines on her face were deeper, more pronounced, and the corners of her mouth were pinched out of unhappiness rather than their usual strict countenance. She walked briskly, snapping her fingers at the first years when their steps were too short. When the group reached the head table, however, she did not hesitate to meet Snape’s eyes. It wasn’t a challenge, per se, but Ginny rather imagined that there was a bitterness that even Minerva McGonagall couldn’t hide. 

Professor McGonagall turned to the Sorting Hat and waited. Several of the first years were now standing on tiptoe to catch a glimpse of the rather unimpressive magical artifact, but oddly enough, it didn’t so much as twitch. For a good minute, it stood completely still. The teachers exchanged nervous glances behind the Carrows. Ginny waited with baited breath.

“I present the first years,” said Professor McGonagall with an uncertain edge to her voice. It had never once needed prompting before.

The hat finally moved. “Jolly good,” it said. “I’m not singing today.”

“But it always sings,” said a second year Ravenclaw rather loudly.

In the Great Hall, the sound of whispering carried all the way across the room. Ginny could see several of her classmates duck their heads together to discuss this new development without any regard to the fact that their two Death Eater professors were practically swelling with rage. Amycus Carrow stood up, drawing his wand.

“I’ll teach it a lesson,” he growled.

“You will not,” Professor Snape replied in his low, drawling voice. The whispering died down almost immediately. All the students watched him nervously. He did not seem particularly angry by the hat’s sudden willfulness, but rather more annoyed at his fellow Death Eater. “That is a school artifact hundreds of years old. If it doesn’t want to sing, by all means it doesn’t have to sing.”

The tip of the hat inclined toward the new headmaster in what was unmistakably a bow. “Thank you, Headmaster Snape,” it said stiffly. “I will sort the new students where they ought to be, but the school should heed my warning. Unless of course, you would rather me not give it…”

“No,” said Snape, leaning back in Dumbledore’s chair. “Say whatever you have to say.”

The brim of the hat opened once again. “You’ve come here to learn. You’ve come here to practice magic. However, there are greater lessons to be had than what these teachers can pass on to you. Study hard, of course, but know in the end this is all meaningless. In the past, you have never once listened to my words of advice, and I’m afraid that this year it will be the downfall of Hogwarts. If you band together, you may yet save the school...but you are as weak as you divided. I sort you into your houses but know that neither bravery nor loyalty nor intelligence nor ambition can separate you if you truly believe in equality. That is all.”

The whispers started up once again. Ginny turned to Seamus. “So, does that mean you owe me five galleons?”

“Shut up, Weasley,” he said.

Professor McGonagall unrolled the scroll in her hand and started with the first student, who quickly became a Ravenclaw. Five other students got sorted before they had their first Gryffindor, and Ginny clapped loudly with the rest of her house. It was a girl with curly brown hair pulled back into a plait, and she smiled brightly at them as she took a seat by the second years. Her name was Lydia something-or-other, Ginny couldn’t remember.

“Well, that isn’t fair,” said Lavender as yet another Ravenclaw joined the far table. “They’ve already got six. Must be a smart group of students.”

“I wish this would just hurry up,” said Neville in an undertone. “I’m so hungry.”

Ginny nudged him gently and inclined her head in the direction of the Slytherin table. “Look who it is…”

Draco Malfoy was staring at the empty plate in front of him with an equally empty expression. He was crammed between Crabbe and Goyle who, for the first time in their lives, looked eager to learn something new. As animated as they were, Malfoy looked the exact opposite. He was withdrawn, paler than usual, and completely closed off. Ginny tried to think of an appropriate word to describe him... _Defeated? Depressed? Submissive?_

“You’d think he would look a lot more cheerful about our new headmaster,” said Neville darkly.

Ginny nodded.

In the end, they had twelve new first-year Gryffindors sitting at the end of the table, and Professor McGonagall turned to the homeschooled students. Heather Barnett was the first name to get called alphabetically. Ginny watched her walk towards the hat, her legs visibly trembling even at their distance. 

“Hufflepuff!” shouted the hat after a moment.

Ginny clapped as Heather quickly took a seat beside Hannah Abbott. The next boy, a third year with curly black hair, claimed a spot at the Slytherin table. They got two Gryffindors out of the group after that; a fourth year girl named Marta and sixth year boy named Douglas. He took a seat a few spots down from her and she nodded in greeting, wishing desperately that it was Colin sitting there instead.

“Welcome,” said Professor Snape when the last of the homeschooled students had been sorted. He stood up, looking like a giant bat in his long black robes. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts.”

Ginny clenched her teeth together so hard that her jaw ached. Beside her, Neville fidgeted restlessly. It was not easy hearing those words...Professor Dumbledore should have been the one talking. 

“As you have probably noticed, there have been a number of changes to the staffing this year. In the wake of Professor Dumbledore’s tragic passing, I have taken the role as Headmaster. Professor McGonagall shall continue her duties as Deputy Headmistress in addition to the role of Transfiguration instructor. Professor Burbage retired this summer, and I have appointed Professor Alecto Carrow to take her place in Muggle Studies. Her brother, Professor Amycus Carrow will be taking the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts…which will henceforth be called ‘The Study of Practical Magic’ to more appropriately match the subject material.”

“Why not just call it ‘The Study of the Dark Arts’ while we’re at it?” Ginny whispered to Neville, who chose not to reply. 

“Due to the circumstances of the war, I have hired additional protection for the school to supplement any resources that the Auror office will provide over the next year. If you have any concern over your safety or the safety of others, I suggest you take them up with Elias Jugson,” said Professor Snape, pointing to the balding man at the back of the Great Hall. “His office will be on the first floor near the painting of Joan of Arc.

Now, I know there have been many rumors circulating about the events of last June, and I want to put an end to them right now. I did not kill Professor Dumbledore. As of right now, his death is an open investigation, although I encourage you to treat it as an unfortunate accident for the time being. Any additional information that you need to know will be provided on the bulletin boards in your common rooms. I suggest you check them every morning before class. That is all. You may eat.”

As he took a seat, the plates magically filled with food for the feast. Ginny immediately helped herself to some mashed potatoes and a spoonful of deliciously steamed vegetables, but her stomach was uncomfortable despite her obvious hunger. She wasn’t going to treat Dumbledore’s death as an accident; that would be lying. Plus, the open investigation was merely a ruse to capture Harry, which she vehemently contested as well. Across the table, Lavender Brown also picked unenthusiastically at her food.

“Come on, guys,” said Seamus, looking back and forth between them. “We’ll be okay. Let’s toast.”

He raised his glass of pumpkin juice. “To Snape’s greasy nose.”

“Shhhhh!” hissed Neville, smiling in spite of himself. They clinked glasses.

Lavender also giggled. “To Alecto Carrow’s undyed roots.”

“And to their other sibling Amycus obviously ate in the womb,” Ginny said.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Gryffindor Tower had not changed, and yet, Ginny still felt that something was not quite right about the place this year. Maybe it was the fact that most of the other students had just gone straight up to bed after the feast, but it also might have been her brother’s complete absence that made her feel homesick for a Hogwarts that no longer existed. The trio used to occupy the sofa by the fireplace. It was vacant now.

Neville poked her arm. “We’re thinking about the same thing, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“What do you think they’re doing right now?”

“I don’t know, but I bloody well hope they spared me a second thought.”

He smiled sympathetically. “Every day, I’m sure...well, I’m going up to bed.”

“Okay,” she said. “Goodnight, Neville. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

They parted ways, and Ginny continued up the girls’ staircase alone. Ida and Alannis were already in the dormitory. She could hear them talking from the other side of the door, but the two girls stopped abruptly the moment she pushed it open. Her roommates were in the middle of unpacking, hanging up their decorations for the school year. Ginny nodded to them in greeting, and then she went to place Arnold in his cage on her bedside table. He squeaked happily, and then ran to his food bowl to munch happily on the kibble that she poured for him. Sighing, Ginny fell backwards onto her four-poster bed. Unpacking her trunk could wait until the weekend. She kicked off her shoes, and they hit the ground with a loud _thunk_.

“Hello, Ginny,” said Ida with forced politeness. “I saw where your brother got married. It was in the announcements section of the newspaper.”

“Yeah, Bill got married on the first of August,” she replied, still staring up at the ceiling. 

“Was it a nice ceremony?”

“Very. Mostly friends and family.”

Ida sighed happily. “Sounds lovely. My sister is getting married next spring, so that’s all she talks about right now. There’s so much planning to do, I never even realized!”

“You should have seen my mother,” Ginny laughed. “She was going spare.”

She sat upright to pull her pajamas out from the depths of her neatly packed trunk. Ginny’s relationship with her roommates had always been strained, even right from the beginning, so she was thankful for the meaningless gossip. It wasn’t their fault; Ida, Alannis, and Katie were wonderfully nice girls...the issue was entirely with Ginny. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to have done, but since she couldn’t remember most of her first year at Hogwarts, the awkwardness was not entirely surprising. 

“Oh, wait,” said Ginny, pulling out one of the photographs that sat at the bottom of her trunk. Here’s a picture of Bill and Fleur if you were curious.”

They quickly hurried over. It was a photograph of the wedding party, so Ginny stood on the other side of Fleur’s little sister, Gabrielle. It was impossible to appear beautiful next to the two sisters, who looked rather angelic, but Ginny actually did not mind her appearance in this one. Even her vast number of freckles couldn’t negate the elegance of the golden dress she had worn. Ida and Alannis were appropriately delighted. They gushed over how beautiful and happy Fleur looked next to Ginny’s brother, and they did not even mention the horrible scars on Bill’s face. When the photograph was returned to her, Ginny tucked it up on the mirror above her dresser. 

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” she said.

Once inside the bathroom, Ginny ran the tap and sat down at the foot of the sink. She took a few deep breaths as the hot water misted the air. On the other side of the door, her two roommates had resumed their previous conversation. She caught snippets through the wooden door, and phrases such as “Yeah, Ron...that’s what I heard” and “Do you really think she knows where Harry is hiding?” seemed especially cruel even though she knew they meant no harm.

_Ten months_ , she thought. 

She was not surprised by Harry’s choice to leave; that was just his personality, and the fact that he had taken Ron and Hermione was only a testament to their own willful stubbornness. She was sure he had tried to go alone, but they had probably forced him into it. This knowledge did not make the truth hurt any less. When she looked in the full-length mirror on the other side of the bathroom, all she saw was this young ( _barely even sixteen-year-old_ ) girl curled up like a child on the floor. Was that all he saw when he looked at her? A child? Unworthy of trust? Innocent and a liability? The same child who had unintentionally opened the Chamber of Secrets while under the possession of Lord Voldemort…

_Ginevra, listen to me…_

She curled her hands into fists.

Now the girl in the mirror was frowning, her upper lip curled in petulance. Strands of bright orange hair had escaped the ponytail to frame her round, freckled face...all of which clashed horribly with the red trimming on her collared robes. Ginny pulled them off. Red for Gryffindor. Red for bravery. Red for the blood in her veins. Red for the color that flushed just beneath the surface of her pale skin. She was brave. She was a survivor. Hadn’t she proven that time and time again?

And so what if Harry hadn't asked for her help? That didn’t mean she was useless.

Later on that night, Ginny dreamt of him. She dreamt of his thin face, those bright green eyes, and that carefully polite smile he always wore when he wanted to hide his true feelings. They were not alone, but rather in a crowded room full of faceless strangers. He took her hand bashfully, like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing and asked her a question.

“If you could tell me one thing, what would it be?”

She pondered for a moment, trying to hold onto the dream for as long as it was possible. Ginny could spend an entirety staring into his eyes. “Please don’t fucking do anything stupid. Please be careful.”


	3. Unfair Retaliation

### CHAPTER THREE: Unfair Retaliation

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny spotted Heather Barnett sitting at the Hufflepuff table alone with her eggs and toast. The youngest Weasley bypassed the Gryffindor table to walk in that direction, navigating her way around the other early risers. Although the new girl was all by herself at the moment, Heather did not seem to need any company. She was pouring over a textbook and did not notice Ginny until the Gryffindor tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey, I just wanted to say congratulations on…”

“No!” said Heather, jumping up to put some space between them. “Stay away from me!”

Ginny blinked in complete surprise. Even though she didn’t know the girl very well at all, she would have never expected such a reaction from her. Heather looked as though she were standing in front of a dangerous animal. The mixed desire to fight or flight was clearly etched upon her stricken face. “Excuse me?” said Ginny.

“You don’t come near me!”

“What are you talking about?”

Heather’s voice trembled, but she remained standing. “I heard all about you last night! How you got mixed up in the Dark Arts your first year, and the fact that you’re in love with Harry Potter! He’s the reason everything’s so messed up! He’s the reason I’m forced to come to this stupid place!”

“I don’t know what you heard, but you’ve obviously been misinformed,” Ginny said, her voice low and sharp. The shock of the entire situation had now left her, and all that remained was her temper. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! I trusted you! I thought you were nice, but you were only trying to take advantage of me.”

“I don’t want anything from you! Merlin, I was just trying to be kind. I thought you could use a friendly face!”

“Go away,” said Heather. “I hate this place, and I hate you.”

“Fine,” Ginny huffed. “Have a good first day of class.”

She stormed off, but before she could get to the end of the table, someone grabbed her elbow. Ginny wheeled around, expecting a confrontation, but Hannah Abbott merely gestured for her to take the open seat next to her. She fell back against the bench, glowering down the row to where Heather Barnett sat all by her lonesome once again. There were tear tracks on her face. 

“She’s sharing a dorm room with Maisie Waters,” Hannah told her. “That girl means well, but she has absolutely no filter, and Heather probably got a very quick and abbreviated version of the last five years.”

Ginny frowned. “Someone told her that I love Harry. Do people still think we’re dating? I need people to think it ended poorly.”

“Well, Pansy Parkinson did a pretty good job telling people that you broke up, but not everyone heard, I don’t think. You know how gossip travels around here. By the time it gets back to you, it’s some twisted version that doesn’t even resemble the truth.”

Ginny just groaned in response. 

“Look,” Hannah continued. “I’ll keep an eye on Heather for you. Maybe she’ll trust me since we’re in the same house.”

“But we’re friends…and you’re friends with Harry,” Ginny pointed out.

“Hufflepuffs don’t rat on other Hufflepuffs. It’s kind of like an unspoken rule.”

Ginny nodded. It wasn’t even eight in the morning, and she was already in pretty low spirits. “Thanks, Hannah. I owe you one.”

“Restart the D.A. and we can call it even,” the other girl replied.

“Trust me, I’m considering it,” Ginny said. 

She left Hannah to finish her breakfast and ended up at the Gryffindor table by herself. Since the schedules had not been passed around yet, and Ginny did not have her school bag to occupy her time, she picked up a muffin and nibbled at it listlessly. She did not have much of an appetite. It was a good ten minutes before anyone else joined her. 

“Good morning,” said Neville.

Ginny only scowled.

“It’s too early for bad news.”

She scoffed. “Someone told Heather Barnett that I still love Harry...so that’s still a rumor. Also, she hates me now.”

He reached for the eggs and bacon. “I said it’s too early for bad news.”

At the moment, Professor McGonagall was making her way down the table. Neville and Ginny did not speak again until she was close enough for conversation. Up close, their professor looked even more stressed than she had the night before. Not that it was a remarkably huge difference...she always looked as though she were about to hand out a stack of detentions. Professor McGonagall was fair and respectful, but Ginny would not have said that they were particularly close. One time, during her second year at school (when she had felt infinitely better than the previous year, of course), Ginny unlocked all the animal cages as a prank before Transfiguration class. It had earned her a week’s worth of detention, and a sharp scolding that had ended with, “Your twin brothers should not be your role models!”

“Class schedules,” said Professor McGonagall. “Mr. Longbottom, Professor Sprout wants me to tell you that she has approved your advanced Herbology classes, and that she expects you to come fully prepared to help teach this afternoon’s lesson with the sixth years.”

“Me? Teach?” said Neville, his face glowing. “I’d love to do that!”

“I’m very proud of you, I expect great things from you this year,” replied Professor McGonagall. She gave him a rare smile, and then she turned to Ginny. “Miss Weasley, I’ve been in contact with your mother. So sorry to hear about your brother. I hope he has a speedy recovery.”

“Thanks.”

Professor McGonagall gave no indication that she knew anything more than what she had just said, but Ginny knew for a fact that her Professor was in on the whole scheme. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix after all. 

She turned to leave.

“Professor McGonagall, who is the Quidditch Captain?” Ginny blurted out. Professor McGonagall turned back around. Although Ginny had tried to keep her voice even, she was unable to hide a note of desperation. She was ashamed to want something that rightfully belonged to Harry, but he obviously wasn’t around anymore to hold the position. Next to him, she was the obvious choice. To her dismay, however, Professor McGonagall’s mouth had become very thin. That was never a good sign.

“I’m afraid Headmaster Snape has decided that Quidditch is inappropriate during wartime. There will be no matches this year, Miss Weasley.”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “He can’t cancel Quidditch!”

“Yes, he can. He brought it up to the Governors, and there was a vote. I assure you, this was a very well thought-out process...despite the lack of fairness.”

“But, Professor...I’m only two hundred and eighty points away from breaking five thousand. I needed both years for that.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Weasley,” came the reply. Maybe Ginny imagined it, but she rather thought her professor’s expression had softened. “Perhaps next year.”

Professor McGonagall turned to continue passing out schedules to the fifth years further down the table. Ginny, angry beyond words and appropriate action, shredded the remainder of her muffin until was nothing more than a pile of crumbs on her plate. She wanted to scream; the prospect of Quidditch had literally been the only thing she had left to enjoy at Hogwarts. The sport was part of her identity. Without it, she was just that stupid girl who nearly killed several students during her first year at school.

“I’m sorry,” said Neville quietly.

She glanced up. He was looking at her, waiting for her reaction. Beneath the surface of her skin, her blood still boiled. “Why do you care? You don’t even like Quidditch.”

“I care because you care,” he said. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me like that...because the only way we’re going to get through this is if we stick together.”

“Oh,” Ginny replied, feeling abashed. “Sorry, Neville.”

He nodded to accept the apology. “Trade schedules?”

Ginny hadn’t even looked at hers properly yet, so she placed it on the table for both of them to read. She had Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology today (all professors she liked), with a free period after lunch. Unfortunately, however, she had the Carrows double period back to back on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Her heart sunk in her chest, and it was already pretty low to begin with. That was nearly six hours of Death Eaters, with only a thirty-minute lunch break in between.

“Yikes,” said Neville. Obviously, he had also noticed her misfortune. “The good news is that you will have me as a student teacher in Herbology this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Professor Longbottom,” she replied. “Could you write me a pass to get out of the next ten months of _The Study of Practical Magic_ and Muggle — wait, why am I even taking Muggle Studies. I didn’t sign up for that one.”

Neville put his schedule on the table next to hers. “I’m also taking it, and I used to have Care of Magical Creatures instead. Looks like it’s mandatory this year.”

Neville’s schedule was a lot less cluttered than hers, but it was certainly more rigorous and focused. The amount of time that he would spend in the Herbology classroom totaled ten and a half hours each week, which sounded far too extreme for Ginny’s tastes. On the bright side, however, two of his periods overlapped with hers. She had never been in a class with Neville before, nor had she ever seen him in a teaching position, but Ginny did not doubt his abilities. 

The biggest downside to his schedule, however, was the fact that he had Study of Practical Magic first thing on Monday mornings. Ginny checked her wristwatch; classes would start soon.

“Well, we might want to get this party started. Are you done with breakfast? I don’t think you want to be late to a Carrow class on your very first day.”

“Agreed,” he said.

“We’ll get our stuff, go to class, and then meet back here for lunch. I want a full report on Amycus Carrow. I’m hoping he’s a joke.”

Neville pushed away his plate of food. He had barely eaten. “And I’m assuming that he’s not.”

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Ginny had been secretly hoping that her classes would easier this year, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick both started out the year just as they always had...with a roll call and a multi-page syllabus of class expectations. Everyone always said that sixth year was a breeze after taking O.W.L.s, but all the talk about nonverbal spells definitely suggested otherwise. It wasn’t that she particularly minded; Ginny was a decent student when she actually cared about her marks, but it was still a lot of extra energy that she would have rather spent elsewhere, like on the Quidditch pitch. Even when she was supposed to be copying down notes from the blackboard in Transfiguration, Ginny found herself daydreaming of flying. If she couldn’t play an actual game, there was no reason why they would stop her from organizing a few pick-up games with her old team members. She was sure Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote would be up for it if she did all the hard work.

When it was finally time for lunch, Ginny joined the mass of students walking downstairs to the Great Hall. She casually looked around for Luna and Neville, but she did not find either of them. The Ravenclaws had not been in either of her first two classes, which meant that there was a greater chance of them sharing lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Luna was not the best study buddy; her notes rarely made sense to logical people, and she often skipped around in the source material...but if Ginny had to sit through two classes taught by Death Eaters, there was no other person she would rather have by her side.

Lavender, Seamus, and Parvati all sat down at once. Ginny picked up her half-eaten sandwich and hurried down the row to join them. Maybe it was just her imagination, but all three of them looked as pale as ghosts. Upon closer inspection, Parvati appeared close to tears, with Lavender trying her best to provide comfort. Seamus looked as though he had been forced to witness unspeakable things. 

“What happened?” Ginny asked.

Parvati shook her head, so Seamus answered for her. “Do you remember when Professor Moody taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he opened the class with a demonstration on the Three Unforgivable Curses?”

“No,” Ginny replied. “They cut the demonstration off at the third years. They said we were too young to see that, but Ron told me about it anyway.”

“Well, Amycus Carrow gave the same presentation...only he did it on this poor, deformed kitten that he found in a broom closet somewhere.”

Ginny’s mouth fell open in horror. “All three?”

“Yes,” Parvati whimpered. “Poor thing. It never even had a chance. He said he was doing it a favor because it was never going to survive anyway.”

“Where’s Neville?” Ginny said, with a horrible realization. Neville actually had a legitimate reason to hate the Unforgivable Curses.

“He walked out of class,” Seamus replied. “He fuckin’ got up and walked right out of class. It was beautiful.”

“No, seriously...where is he now?”

At least Lavender seemed to understand Ginny’s sense of urgency. “He didn’t show up for History of Magic...not that he missed anything important. I heard he went to go see Professor McGonagall.”

Ginny quickly abandoned her sandwich. She swung her school bag over her shoulder and left the Great Hall nearly at a run. The Transfiguration classroom was not far from her current location. It was on the first floor, but on the opposite side of the building facing the courtyard. Ginny knocked on the classroom door, but when she received no answer, she continued straight on to Professor McGonagall’s office. 

“Come in,” said a voice this time.

Professor McGonagall was half out of her seat when Ginny opened the door. “Oh, Miss Weasley,” said the Professor. “I thought you might have been someone else.”

“Neville…” Ginny started.

His seat was facing the opposite direction, but he turned around at the sound of his name. He looked perfectly fine, other than the fact that his face was quite red. It was hard to tell if he was angry or sad, but Ginny figured that it was probably some combination between the two. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“Hey, sorry I missed you at lunch,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

Professor McGonagall conjured an extra chair for her. “Please do join us, Miss Weasley. I just got done telling Mr. Longbottom that he looked as though he could use a decent meal, and you are in the same boat. Have you not been eating or sleeping?”

Ginny placed her bag on the ground and sat down. The chair was very comfortable, and Professor McGonagall was offering her a biscuit from a full plate of them on her desk. Cognizant of her mother’s voice in her head telling her that she ought to be polite, Ginny took one and smiled. “No, I’m eating. Maybe not real food...Fred and George sent me back to school with an entire bag of sweets. I’ve just been very distracted.”

“I could tell this morning in class. The window had more of your attention than I did.”

“Sorry, Professor,” she replied.

Professor McGonagall arranged a few of the items on her desk. “No matter, Miss Weasley. I’m quite glad that you joined us when you did. I think you need to hear this conversation as well.”

Ginny glanced at Neville. He did not look at either of them, but rather stared ahead at some spot on the wall. She noticed that he was chewing on the inside of his mouth, a habit that Ginny knew from previous experiences meant that he was not far from tears. Her heart broke for him, and she would have reached for his arm if she didn’t think it would embarrass him in front of their Head of House. 

“Now, I know that both of you are very aware of what is going on. Hogwarts has been infiltrated, and I suspect that our new Headmaster is in direct correspondence with...with _someone in higher power_.”

“What would he want with a bunch of schoolkids?” Ginny asked quietly. She did not need to clarify who she meant.

“You are the future, Miss Weasley. He is probably wanting to influence the next generation of wizards before they are old enough to form an opinion for themselves.”

“Well, he won’t influence me,” said Neville.

Professor McGonagall looked at them over her square spectacles for a long moment. “Have another biscuit.”

“No, thank you,” Ginny replied.

“I insist.”

Caught off guard, Ginny obediently took another cookie. Neville did as well, although he did not immediately bring it to his mouth. He was still chewing a hole through the inside of his cheek. Professor McGonagall gave them a look that might have been pity if Ginny thought she was capable of such an emotion. “Look, what I’m about to say will be difficult for you to hear. Both of you were in the middle of the war at home, and I promise you that Hogwarts is just as dangerous right now. We are in this for the long run, and I don’t think any amount of protesting or pranking or running illicit study groups is going to make this any easier. In fact, I think it will only make things worse.”

“So,” Ginny said. “We just sit here and take it?”

Their professor looked conflicted, as though she were refraining from speaking what she truly wanted to say. Ginny wondered if her office had been _bugged_ — as Harry would have called it. “Not exactly. I only ask that you seriously consider your actions. You two are some of the most influential students in this school — yes, Mr. Longbottom, I meant you as well — and the younger students are going to look to you for guidance. I just hope that you will not lead them into possible danger, because they are always looking.”

“You can’t,” Neville protested. Ginny could see that the words were nearly killing him from the inside out. “They are horrible, horrible people, and you can’t expect me to just sit there and listen to them lie...and twist the truth...and say such horrible things!

“Perhaps not...but I do expect the both of you to listen because I want you to report back to me what they are saying in class.”

Ginny blinked. “Report?”

“Yes, Miss Weasley,” she replied. “I need you to let me know if they say anything of interest. A certain group needs detailed reports of what is going on in these classes.”

Ginny understood that to mean the Order of the Phoenix. “Like what?”

“Hints of possible danger, changes in the way they discuss certain topics...that’s all I can say, but please know that I take the safety of my students very seriously. Please don’t go looking for danger because there are others who are not so concerned with safety.”

“I hate him,” Ginny said, speaking of Snape. “I hate him almost as much as his stupid boss. He did this to us, and I want him dead.”

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips but did not comment on that particular sentiment. Instead, she rearranged her plate of cookies so that it was directly in front of the two students once again. Ginny wondered if she had baked them herself, and she found that she could not picture their strict professor doing anything as domestic as baking cookies. “Will you consider my request?” she asked.

Neville nodded, and Ginny said; “Whatever I can do to be helpful.”

“Thank you. Please don’t hesitate to come see me if something is amiss. Mr. Longbottom, remember what we talked about. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. Now, if you hurry along, you will make it to your next class before the bell rings.”

“Bye, Professor,” Neville said, and the two of them picked up their bags and left.

Out in the hallway, Ginny turned to Neville. She had a free period, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get to his next class anyway. His entire posture alarmed her; his shoulders were slumped forward, his head bowed. She reached out to put a hand on his arm, but he turned away. 

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Neville, look, I know Carrow demonstrated the Unforgivable Curses. Seamus told me.”

He glanced up at her, but only to glare at her for a second or two. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“So you’re just going to ignore me?” came Ginny’s sharp reply. “I’ve met your parents, remember? I understand.”

“How could you understand? You don’t know anything.”

Ginny put her hands on her hips. To anyone in her family, this would have been a warning sign of her famous temper, but Neville did not know her as well as they did. He was oblivious to the signs of danger. “I care because you care. And yeah, Neville, I’m quoting you directly from this morning. You can’t just push me away because it hurts.”

“That was Quidditch. Completely different!”

“No, not entirely. Cancelling Quidditch was intended to hurt me...like a weapon. Just like this is a weapon against you.”

“Gee, Ginny,” he replied sarcastically. “Did you just figure out that it’s sensitive to me?”

“If you want coddling, go see Luna. I’m going to tell you like it is, because that’s who I am; what happened to your parents is a weapon against you because you let them have that power. It’s so obvious on your face that you might as well go up to everyone and tell the world.”

He looked hurt by this, but Ginny continued:

“You can’t let them hurt you, Neville. You can’t let them take away the best part of you.”

“And what’s the best part of me?” he asked.

“That you care! And that you are the kindest, bravest person I know.”

Suddenly, Neville’s anger was gone. Ginny watched it rush out of him like air from a balloon. He leaned against the stone wall opposite Professor McGonagall’s office, and stared at her from underneath a blond fringe of hair. Although he was taller than her, this made him seem much smaller. “No, I’m not, Ginny. I’m Neville Longbottom. I’m a joke.”

Ginny reached out to him again, but this time he didn’t turn away. “The worst thing that ever happened to me happened right here in this castle. Everyone always said that Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in the world, but I almost killed a bunch of people along with myself. That shouldn’t have happened, but it did. Your parents shouldn’t be in St. Mungo’s right now…but they are. Those things are in our past, and it still hurts. There is no sense in trying to pretend that we are okay, but we can’t let the Death Eaters use that as a weapon against us. We’re stronger than that. We’re on a broomstick that only goes up, Neville.”

“I hate flying,” he replied, but there was a small smile on his face.

A loud bang reverberated from down the hallway, and it made both of them jump. It sounded like a wand back-firing, probably in one of the classrooms. Ginny turned again to Neville. “We have to find a way to fight them.”

“Did you not just hear Professor McGonagall? She told us not to do it.”

“No, what she said was to think very carefully. She never actually told us not to do anything. I think her office was bugged or something.”

Neville’s eyes met hers. “You might be right.”

“I know I’m right. Maybe she can’t say certain words or phrases...”

Another loud noise echoed from somewhere upstairs, and the sound of feet followed soon after. Ginny could hear several people moving around the castle rather quickly. She checked her watch. “Hold on, the first bell was supposed to ring six minutes ago.”

“Really? What’s going on?”

From what Ginny could see of the Grand Staircase, several students had stopped to talk with one another in the rush that usually followed lunch. Many of them were whispering urgently, although she couldn’t tell from this distance if what they were saying was good news or bad news. Ginny made to walk toward them, but a couple of Gryffindor fourth years conveniently chose that moment to hurry past. Ginny recognized a few of them as friends of Dennis Creevey (Colin’s younger brother).

“Nigel!” she called.

The boy turned around at the sound of his name. His eyes grew large when he realized who had called for him.

“What’s going on?” Neville asked.

“Didn’t you hear?” Nigel said in a rush. “Harry Potter broke into the Ministry of Magic and killed the Minister!”

Ginny spun around; Neville’s face was white with shock. She took his hand, and together they ran toward the Grand Staircase and down to the Great Hall. Although they weren’t sure what they would find waiting for them there, perhaps a newspaper or a professor with some information, the only thing Ginny could think of was the fact that rumors moved faster than the truth in this school. Harry _couldn’t_ have killed anyone. Nigel must have heard some naive first year prattling on about things they would never understand.

“Attention,” said a magically magnified voice as Ginny and Neville reached the ground floor landing. “All students and faculty please report to the Great Hall.”

It was Snape. Ginny recognized his voice almost immediately, and it was with a sickening dread that she completed the last leg of their journey to the Great Hall. The benches were practically empty; there were a few confused students still waiting for the bell to ring, but most people, like Ginny and Neville, were doubling back after leaving. They found Luna moments later as she casually strolled inside, wearing her famous radish earrings. 

“Do you know what’s happening?” Ginny asked her. She released Neville’s hand to grab the Ravenclaw by the shoulder. 

“No,” said Luna. “Somebody said Harry broke into the ministry. I was on my way to Divination.”

“We heard he killed somebody,” Ginny whispered.

Luna shook her head in certainty. “Harry wouldn’t do that. That’s nonsense.”

At this point, the chatter of voices had reached an almost deafening level as students continued to pour in through the door. Ginny heard wild versions of the same story, including one where Harry had marched into the Ministry with an army and proclaimed himself Minister of Magic. Normally, Ginny would have found the situation hilarious, but not a single one of the stories contained any information about her brother or Hermione. If Harry had indeed broken into the Ministry, then she knew without a doubt that her brother was right there with him. Plus, no one mentioned any sort of outcome to the incident, so intent they were upon the subject of the wild tales. For all she knew, the three of them had been caught and thrown in prison. 

Professor Snape hurried inside, and almost at once everyone stopped talking (aside from the few unfortunate stragglers at the back who could not see). With a wave of his wand, the four tables vanished. The few people who had been sitting on the benches comically fell backwards onto the stone floor, but no one laughed. Instead, they faced the angry headmaster as though they had been given a death sentence.

“Line up according to house,” he shouted at them. “Professors, make sure everyone is present!”

There was a scramble. Ginny exchanged a nervous glance with Luna, but they separated and went back to their respective houses. The students at Hogwarts were not accustomed to lining up for anything, and their lines instead resembled four giant clumps. Professor McGonagall hurried in, looking frazzled but still composed. Ginny tried to meet her eye, but the older woman was too busy counting students.

Seamus dropped in line next to them. “What’s going on?”

Ginny just gave him a look.

“Silence,” Professor Snape said. He didn’t raise his voice any higher than what it had been just a moment before, but the anger was still noticeable. Everyone fell completely silent. Ginny imagined that even the drop of a pin would have been audible. “Mr. Filch, track down any student not in attendance. Heads of Houses, I want a list of absentees on my desk by seven o’clock this evening.”

Ginny watched Professor McGonagall take a long breath, as though she were steeling herself for something unpleasant, and then she conjured a quill and parchment out of thin air.

The headmaster turned to address them. “Now, I don’t know what silly nonsense you’ve been spreading around the school, but it stops right now. I just received word from London that Harry Potter has broken into the Ministry of Magic for unknown reasons. He assaulted some very valuable members of office, released a bunch of dangerous criminals, and stole an item off Senior Under-Secretary Dolores Umbridge’s possession.”

Ginny released a breath she hadn’t known that she was holding. Harry had done some _supposedly_ horrible things, but he wasn’t a killer. Professor Snape continued, stepping down from his spot by the Head Table to walk about the room.

“I know Harry Potter used to go to this school, and I know that some of you may have… _fond_ memories of the time he was here but let me make this very clear: Harry Potter is a dangerous criminal, and he is wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore and now for an attack on the people of our government. If you have any sort of allegiance to this boy, there will be consequences…especially if it is discovered that you are withholding information that may lead to his capture.”

He paused in his speech. Although he was on the opposite side of the room from where Ginny stood, she could feel his eyes burning a hole right through her. She continued to stare at him, her face blank with neutral curiosity. 

“I want to encourage anyone afraid of sharing information to come to my office. You will not be punished if you help capture this criminal…”

“What a load of…” Seamus whispered angrily. He never even got to finish his sentence, because the students around him flinched, catching their headmaster’s attention. 

Professor Snape stalked forward, “Mr. Finnegan, do you have something to say?”

Neville’s face had gone white, but Seamus seemed completely unconcerned. “No, sir. Just speculating what my dangerous roommate is up to these days.”

“Professor Carrow,” Snape said. Amycus Carrow stepped forward, a giddy look undisguised on his face. “Can you show the students what happens when students show loyalty to Mr. Potter?”

“ _Crucio!_ ”

Seamus did not scream, but he still gave an exclamation of pain as he doubled over. His knees hit the floor, and his arms clutched his midriff in absolute agony. Ginny shook with fear. She watched Professor Carrow’s face, waiting for some sort of sign that he was going to let up, but she knew in her heart that she would have to say something before it got too bad...before Neville intervened because she knew he would. However, it was Professor McGonagall who came hurrying forward first.

“Stop!” she yelled. “That’s enough! You’ve done enough!”

Amycus Carrow released the spell. Seamus stopped twitching on the ground, but when he looked up at them, shaking, Ginny saw that he had bitten his lip. He quickly put up a hand to stop the bleeding.

“Professor McGonagall,” Snape said warningly. 

“That’s quite enough,” she replied, her face white with anger. “We talked about this. If you want to punish him, put him in detention.”

Amycus Carrow stepped in between them. “You think you know better than we do?” 

“That need not be necessary,” said Professor McGonagall. She also had her wand out. “Children do not learn this way. It will only make things worse. The approved method of discipline at Hogwarts is to take away privileges and assign detention.” 

Professor Snape smiled, or rather his lips curled up to reveal his teeth in a poor imitation of what should have been a friendly gesture. “You are quite right, Professor. That was my mistake. I should have warned you on the change in protocols. It is now permissible to punish students using magic. Although, I think your suggestion of a combination of both works just as well.”

“You there,” Professor Carrow said, pointing at Seamus. “Detention every night this week starting at eight o’clock.”

“Yes, sir,” Seamus said. He struggled to stand up. Neville moved as though he were going to offer him a hand, but Ginny met his gaze. Her eyes were wide in the attempt to keep him still. If Seamus could stand, then he was well enough to make it through the rest of this meeting. Nobody said a word throughout the Great Hall, but everyone had seen the exchange.

“This meeting is over,” said Professor Snape, his voice echoing loudly. “Anytime I call you down here, this is how you line up. There will be no talking or fidgeting. This task should be so easy that even the simplest of you can accomplish it, and if not, we will do it over and over again until you can get it right. Am I understood?”

They all mumbled varying forms of agreement, and then they were dismissed. Ginny immediately jumped forward to check on Seamus, but Professor McGonagall stopped her with curt shake of her head. “Miss Weasley,” she said. “I believe you have Herbology next, don’t you? Might as well be early. Hurry along.”

Ginny glared at her. Even though she knew that her Head of House was doing the best she could under the difficult circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel angry. Part of this was McGonagall’s fault; how could she have agreed to serve under that man? She hoisted her school bag higher up on her shoulder, and then she turned away. Luna met her in the hallway. 

“Are you okay?” Luna asked. 

Ginny shook her head; she didn’t trust herself to speak yet. Anger, fear, and worry pounded through her veins like poison, and it consumed her thoughts as they hurried through the castle. Only by force of habit did she find herself correctly exiting the side that faced the Greenhouses. She didn’t go down the path, however. Professor Sprout would not be there yet. 

Unlike yesterday, the sky outside was bright and relatively clear. A breeze rustled the trees that outlined the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and Ginny could see Hagrid walking out his front door to meet the third years for class. The castle cast long shadows across the grounds, and things didn’t look nearly as bad out here as they had inside. Ginny leaned against one of the stone walls. She sort of felt like crying, but it had been a long time since she had had a proper cry. Now was not the time to start. 

The door to the castle opened once again, revealing Neville. Ginny and Luna ran back up the hill to meet him. “How’s Seamus,” Ginny asked at once.

“He’s fine. A little shaky, though.”

“We haven’t even been here a full twenty-four hours, and someone already got tortured. Now I’m going to Herbology class like nothing happened.”

“I’ve already sort of given up on school,” Neville laughed humorlessly. “Out of my three classes so far, I’ve missed two and a half.”

“That’s quite a record. I think Fred and George would be proud.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “Trust me, my intention was not to please them. I’m not happy about this, so let’s just be early to Herbology. If I completely fail everything else this year, I want to be able to point to the one thing on my transcript that might get me a job.”

He made to walk down to the Greenhouses, but Ginny stopped him. The rest of her classmates were staring at them, not even bothering to hide their pointed looks and whispering. She didn’t acknowledge them, and there was fierce determination written all over her freckled face. The wind picked up, tugging at her long red hair as she pulled her two best friends even further away from their peers.

“I want to be serious now,” she said.

“How serious?” Neville asked in a resigned voice. He seemed to be preparing himself for something particularly unpleasant. 

Ginny raised her eyebrows. “As serious as it gets! We just have to be very, VERY careful.”

“I knew it!” Luna said, her blue eyes sparkling with energy. “You want to get the D.A. back together, right?”

“Damn right I do.”

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Ginny met Luna at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The Ravenclaw was wearing Muggle clothes, and she had tucked her long hair up into a knitted cap. Thankfully, she had also chosen to leave her radish earrings behind. Ginny pulled her over the threshold in the Gryffindor common room and they hurried across to the staircases. Nobody paid them any attention. Luna had been here once before, on a dare from Neville, and Ginny had likewise once been in the Ravenclaw common room. It was easy if you acted natural, and the older students couldn’t care less as long as it didn’t involve spying on the Quidditch teams. The only reason Ginny’s heart beat frantically in her chest was the fact that Snape would probably think they were up to something if he found multiple houses conspiring together...and that was exactly what they were doing. She wasn’t scared though; she had long since made up her mind.

There were voices from within the boys’ dormitory, but they were too muffled to make out anything but the rise and fall of speech. Ginny knocked, and the door opened to reveal Neville. He stepped aside to let them pass, and then he quickly closed the door once again. There were several people gathered around the room. Seamus was sitting up in his bed, pale but otherwise okay. Lavender and Parvati occupied the space at the foot of his bed, and Hannah Abbott hovered awkwardly by the boiler in the middle of the room. Ginny knew which bed used to be Harry’s, but she didn’t want to appear lovesick, so she took a seat on the edge of Ron’s old bed.

“Okay,” said Neville. “We’re all here.”

“Ernie says he’s sorry he couldn’t come,” Hannah started quickly. “He says that he has to pick and choose which rules to break if he wants to stay in good favor. It’s not like Daphne Greengrass will look out for the first years.”

“No, it’s perfectly fine, Hannah. Besides, we like you here,” Neville said brightly.

Hannah blushed. “Well, as long as I don’t get caught…”

Ginny exchanged a glance with Seamus, who winced at the effort it took to hide his laughter. He was putting on a pretty good show, though. Lavender kept making sympathetic faces for his benefit only. Ginny rolled her eyes and looked down at her brother’s old comforter beneath her. It was cold and untouched. She ran her hands over the fabric and tried to imagine what it had looked like when Ron had been at school.

It had probably been on the floor, in all honesty. 

“So,” Parvati said, looking at Ginny. “What are we going to do?”

Ginny stared at them. “Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re the one who had the idea, remember?” Neville said.

“I’m not the only one, you know! All of you were thinking the same exact thing!”

“But you probably know Harry the best out of all of us. What would he do in this situation?” came Seamus’s voice. 

“Just because I dated the guy doesn’t mean I’m the expert on all things Harry Potter,” Ginny replied, briskly. “Besides, we weren’t even a couple for that long. I doubt I know him well enough to say what he would do in a situation like this.”

“If we could ask Ron and Hermione, we would,” said Hannah.

Ginny glared at them for making her think about Harry. As much as she pretended otherwise, he was still a sore subject. She thought about his green eyes, and the crease that formed between his eyebrows whenever he was particularly mad about something. Harry’s anger was a cold fury. He was a quiet individual until it was one thing too many. Of course, he would have been furious about Snape. She imagined him sitting in a cave somewhere, dwelling on the fact that his enemy was in charge of Hogwarts while the love of his life was trapped under tyrannical rule. It was a little dramatic, but Ginny thought that maybe she deserved a little bit of foolish romance in her life. In all honesty, Harry and his friends were probably more concerned about whatever had gone down in the Ministry that morning. She hoped they were safe. All they knew was that they had not been caught.

“He would have agreed to it, but only on the requirement that we be absolutely careful,” she finally relented. 

“It’s not like we’re going to be stupid about it,” Seamus replied.

Neville raised his eyebrows. “You’re one to talk. Shouldn’t you be going to detention?”

“I still got fifteen minutes before I have to leave.”

“You don’t think he’ll try to hurt you again, will he?” Parvati asked nervously. “Shouldn’t someone go with him just in case?”

“Nah, they put me with Filch...who, let’s face it, can only daydream about hurting students.”

Neville rolled his eyes. “Alright, can we get back on subject? The D.A. has three major barriers this year that we didn’t last time, and we should really discuss this...with or without Seamus.”

“Hey, I want to be a part of this conversation!”

“Then I suggest you be quiet.”

Ginny had put the list together in her head during Herbology. She cleared her throat. “One: Snape is not afraid to torture students. Two: We’re not the only ones who know about the Room of Requirement. And three: We don’t have a leader anymore.”

“Well, the Room of Requirement is easy,” Luna piped up. “You just have to be _very_ specific when you tell it what you want. If we make it impossible to get inside, then they cannot find us. Harry knew that.”

“What about the fact that we could get tortured?” Ginny asked. “I don’t know if everyone is prepared for that. What if someone wants to back out?”

Seamus shuddered. “Trust me, you can never be prepared for it. I thought my blood vessels were going to burst.”

“Then we’ll let them back out,” Neville said. He was pacing the floor. “Only we should try to copy Hermione’s list so that no one can rat us out. Anybody know how to do that?”

There was silence. Ginny looked around at her friends, but she already knew that nobody present could ever match Hermione Granger in intelligence. That girl was capable of so much more than any of them could ever imagine. It was no wonder that Ron had harbored a crush on her for years. Ginny knew about that little secret, of course. He wasn’t exactly very adept at hiding it.

“Well,” Luna said. “I might be able to figure it out. And I’m sure Terry or Padma or Anthony would help me, right?”

“Of course!” Parvati said. “Just let Padma know why you need it. She’d help in a heartbeat.”

“Wonderful! Then that just leaves the question of a leader,” Hannah said.

Ginny immediately looked to Neville. In her opinion, he was by far the bravest and most natural choice for a leader, but he was staring at her in anticipation of an answer. Glancing around the room, she saw that everyone expected one of them to say something. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, we’ll put it to a vote come our first meeting. No sense in deciding that until we have a complete list of members.”

“What about the D.A. coins?” Hannah asked. 

Neville continued pacing up and down the dormitory. “I thought of that one. Unfortunately, we don’t have the master coin.”

“Another brilliant Hermione invention that we can’t use,” Parvati said crossly.

“I wouldn’t immediately dispel the notion,” Luna said. “There might still be a way to create an additional master coin. Either way, we need to create a new method for communication.”

“So when’s our first meeting?” asked Seamus.

“Well, we don’t have Quidditch practices anymore to conflict with meetings, so that opens up a lot more opportunities,” Ginny said sarcastically.

“How about Thursday at six?”

Ginny thought about it. “Yes, but make it start at six thirty so people can take their time and stagger in after dinner.”

“Alright,” said Neville, looking at them seriously. “This is word of mouth only for right now. Do not tell anyone you wouldn’t trust with your life, and definitely do not let this slip in front of teachers or untrustworthy people. Understood?”

Ginny nodded. There was a part of her that felt very distant from this decision, as though she did not have much of a choice. She and Harry were, of course, no longer dating, but she was ready to go down with the ship if it came to it. The minute he walked into battle would be the minute she abandoned all caution. The D.A. was just one step in that direction. She leaned backwards up against Luna, who simply acknowledged her presence with an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

Seamus stood up. “So, are we done? Because I have detention.”

“Be careful,” Neville said, by way of confirmation. “We’ll see each other on Thursday.”

The group dispersed. Parvati and Lavender went to sneak Hannah back out through the portrait hole, while the three of them (Neville, Ginny, and Luna) stayed behind. For the first time since she had arrived, Ginny allowed her eyes to wander over to Harry’s empty bed. The curtains were open, tied against the bedposts indefinitely. Like Ron’s, it was neatly made. The corners of the comforter were tucked carefully underneath the mattress. Ginny had once ripped apart this room looking for her old diary, so she was accustomed to the layout. She had loved him even then...or rather, she had loved the idea of him. Ginny had been absolutely mortified by his attention, and yet still oddly possessive of the fact that he actually knew her name. It had been a confusing time for her, only worsened by Tom’s possession and influence. 

Sitting on Harry’s pillow was a lump of dark clothing. Ginny sat up to get a better look and realized that it was one of her mother’s famous knitted sweaters. It was dark green with black yarn in the purl stitches, probably given on a Christmas several years ago. She looked at Neville, who had noticed the object of her attention.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“One of Harry’s. I accidently took it home at the end of last year. I thought I’d wash it and bring it back just in case he showed up this year.”

Ginny stood up and walked over to Harry’s bed to get a better look. It was definitely one of her mother’s creations; the love and care she put into her knitting was unmatched by anything but her cooking. Everyone loved Mrs. Weasley’s sweaters. This particularly one had been worn and washed many times, judging by the faded color and thin stitching. When she picked it up, Ginny noted that it would have fit her rather comfortably, due to the age of the sweater and the fact that Harry had always been rather skinny. She turned back to Neville.

“Do you mind if I take it?”

He had a knowing smile on his face. “It’s just going to sit here…”

She pulled it on over her button-down oxford, taking care to pull her long red hair out from under the collar. It fit quite nicely, perhaps a little loose, and even though it didn’t smell particularly like Harry, there was something comforting about wearing one of his old sweaters. It was as if, for just one moment, she could pretend that they were still together.


	4. The Carrows

### CHAPTER FOUR: The Carrows

The next morning, the front page of the newspaper was adorned with a full-page picture of Harry’s face. The title “Undesirable No. 1” was emblazoned across the top where the headline was usually positioned. Ginny was not sure where they had gotten the picture of him; it was fairly recent, within the last year or so. He wore a Weasley sweater. Ginny wondered whether they had not been able to find a more threatening photo of him, because Harry looked less like a murderer than anyone she had ever seen. He was just staring at the camera, expression withdrawn but attentive. His green eyes were blinking slowly. All across the Great Hall, students were unrolling newspapers with his face upon them. Most people just looked down in quiet shock, but still others were whispering or frowning. A group of Slytherins were laughing.

Ginny read the description underneath his picture:

**Name:** Harry James Potter

**DOB:** 31/7/1980

**Age:** 17

**Blood Status:** Half-blood

**Hair Color:** Black

**Eye Color:** Green

**Height:** 5 feet 8 inches

**Wand:** Holly 11 inches, Phoenix Feather core

**Notes:** Undesirable No. 1 - Wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Dangerous, do not engage. 10,000 Galleon Reward for the capture of him and his wand. 

“Hello, Ginny,” said a voice.

It was Luna, once again wearing her radish earrings. A necklace of butterbeer corks dangled from around her throat. She had her wand pinned into a loose bun at the base of her neck, but strands of her dirty blonde hair kept falling forward in front of her eyes. Ginny wondered how she could see anything at all, but Luna took the seat on the other side of the table and reached for the jug of orange juice without any sort of trouble. 

“Good morning,” Ginny replied. “I take it you’ve read this?”

“Why bother? It’s not the truth. Daddy is going to have the real version of what happened at the Ministry for Saturday’s edition of the Quibbler.”

Ginny quickly flipped to the next page and turned it around for Luna to read. “It doesn’t even talk about the Ministry break-in. There’s very little information at all! Look!”

Luna wrinkled her nose while she read, tapping one finger to the point of her chin. Her purple nail varnish was chipped in places. The article on the next page focused almost exclusively on new evidence that supposedly linked Harry to the death of Albus Dumbledore. It was complete nonsense. When Luna finally finished reading, she merely shrugged disapprovingly and returned to her breakfast. Ginny made a prompting noise in the back of her throat. 

“They took testimony from the Carrows and Elias Jugson, although it doesn’t say why those three were even at Hogwarts in the first place! Can you believe this?”

The smile on Luna’s face was far too understanding for Ginny’s taste. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“But why didn’t they even talk about what happened yesterday?” Ginny said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I need to know that Ron’s okay.”

“Daddy will have more information, I promise,” Luna replied in a reassuring voice. “I know you’re worried, and I think we would know if something really bad had happened. We just have to wait until Saturday.”

Ginny wasn’t sure if “worried” was a strong enough word to describe how she was currently feeling. She had been awake most of the night, staring up at the ceiling of her four-poster and wondering why in the world they would have needed to break into the Ministry. “Worried” was how she had felt the night before her O.W.L.s. This was dread. She was _dreading_ bad news. 

_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever…_

With a quick shake of her head, Ginny pushed that thought away and continued to flip through the newspaper. The rest was filled with status updates on the war (the Ministry was still trying to insist that they were close to stopping You-Know-Who) as well as half-hearted attempts at cheerful articles. Ginny paused on the Quidditch standings; she didn’t have a clue who was good this year. It appeared as though the Chudley Cannons were bottom of the league again. There was a match with them against the Ballycastle Bats on Sunday. Perhaps she could put it on the wireless in the Common Room…

“You know, I think we have Practical Magic together,” Luna said vaguely.

Ginny wasn’t paying. She had turned the page and stumbled upon a new article. Disgust rose in her throat as she read further and further down. “Get a load of this bullshit,” she said bitterly. “ _Ministry Decriminalizes the Use of the Unforgivable Curses._ ”

“Really?” Luna said. 

“ _In an unprecedented act on Monday evening, the Wizengamot voted 38 to 12 yesterday to decriminalize the use of the Unforgivable Curses. Spokesman for the Auror department, Timothy Tottlemayer, said in an exclusive interview this morning that he believes the decision was a good one. ‘It’s a curse!’ he told reporters. ‘A curse can’t be unforgivable. A curse is just a curse.’ The Wizengamot will still hold trials where cases of unlawful murder, torture, and control are in question, but the decision was made to protect those who use the three curses to defend their homes and loved ones. ‘We’re at war,’ Tottlemayer continued. ‘With Undesirable No. 1 still at large, I think all of us will sleep a little easier at night when we know that we can use the curses when threatened.’ This decision followed last year’s landmark vote to allow Aurors to use the curses against You-Know-Who and his followers. For more information about this decision, please continue to Page 23._ ”

Luna looked appropriately troubled. “Oh dear.”

“Remember yesterday?” Ginny asked her, lowering her voice. “Carrow used an Unforgivable on Seamus, and Snape said that they were now allowed to use magic as a form of punishment. This has to be related. They are going to torture us.”

“Personally, I’m more concerned about the Imperius curse,” said Luna.

Ginny shuddered. She didn’t want to admit it out loud, but the implication of having someone force their way inside her head — again — bothered her immensely. Perhaps something of it showed on her face, because Luna reached across the table to hold her hand.

“Harry knew how to resist it,” Ginny continued. “He had to demonstrate it in front of Moody’s class. Ron told me all about it. I wish I could have asked how to do it.”

“Maybe Neville remembers?” Luna suggested.

“Maybe.”

Ginny withdrew her hand to check her wristwatch. It was almost time for morning classes, and she definitely did not want to be late to Amycus Carrow’s class without good reason. She made to stand up, and then Luna’s words came back to her in a rush of hope. “Did you say that you had Practical Magic first thing this morning?”

“Yes,” said Luna. “I did.”

“Me too! What do you have after lunch?” 

“Muggle Studies.”

Some of Ginny’s anxieties rushed out of her like air leaving a taut balloon. “Oh, thank Merlin! I was worried I would have to endure those classes alone.”

“You’re never alone, Ginny,” Luna replied automatically. 

“You’re sweet,” Ginny said bitterly, “But I’ve definitely been alone in this castle before, and I’d rather not repeat it.”

She waited until Luna was finished with her breakfast, and then the two of them left the Great Hall for Practical Magic together. Ginny’s first impression of the classroom was that absolutely nothing had changed from the previous year. In fact, she thought she’d made a mistake upon entering the room. It was almost as if the last few months had not even happened. When Professor Snape had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, there had been pictures of various curses and other dark creatures lining the walls. Those pictures were still there, and not a single one was out of place. There was even a fine layer of dust upon the glass to mark the passage of time. Amycus Carrow, it seemed, was not one for decorating. 

The Death Eater was already there, learning against his desk at the front of the room. He watched them enter with an ill-disguised excitement gleaming in his narrowed eyes. Ginny ignored his attempt at pleasantries. There was something about Carrow that made her stomach knot uncomfortably. Warning bells were going off inside her head, and she usually had a pretty good measure for people. Overall, the room was awkwardly silent despite the fact that it was nearly full. Most of their classmates had walked up from the Great Hall together, united in the unspoken agreement that being early was probably the best policy. Ginny and Luna grabbed a table on the right-hand side of the classroom, as close to the middle of the room as they could manage. Out of all the seats that had been left, Ginny figured this was the most inconspicuous. She did not want to stand out any more than she already did.

The eight o’clock bell rang, and Carrow waved his wand. Behind them, the door clanged shut.

“Good morning,” he said, unrolling a scroll of parchment. “My name is Professor Carrow. I will be teaching The Study of Practical Magic. It used to be called Defense Against the Dark Arts, but we changed it. I understand that you have had a different teacher every year. Don’t worry if you feel like there have been giants gaps in your instruction, because we are starting a new curriculum this year. Everyone will be on the same page. This curriculum has been proven effective; in fact, all the students at Durmstrang believe it has prepared them for all their after-school endeavors. Any questions?”

Nobody raised their hand. 

“Excellent,” said Carrow. “I will now give you a demonstration.”

From underneath his desk, Carrow pulled out a small wire cage. Ginny, who had been expecting another kitten, was not exactly relieved to see that it contained nothing more than a common dormouse. The little creature was a grayish-brown color, with large black eyes and a pink tail. It stretched out onto its back legs to investigate the top of the cage for an escape route. Upon finding none, however, it sat back on its haunches to clean its whiskers. The poor thing obviously had no idea what was going to happen to it. 

Carrow jabbed his wand at the mouse, immobilizing it. He stuck his hand in and pulled it out, presenting it to them like a cat with a particularly nasty kill. 

“This,” he said, rather harshly, “is a pest. It was found wandering around in the kitchens. The Bleedin’ Elves would have killed it, so don’t you go crying to Professor McGonagall about animal cruelty. You hear me?”

They didn’t respond. 

“Are you all mute? I expect an answer when I ask you question!”

“Yes, Professor Carrow,” they chanted obediently. 

“Thank you,” he replied. “Now I’m about to show you three curses that used to be called the Unforgivable Curses. Prior to yesterday, the Ministry considered them too dangerous for common use, but they were decriminalized. Anybody know why?”

There was a long drawn out pause, until Douglas (the new, previously homeschool, Gryffindor) raised his hand. Carrow nodded for him to speak. “There was an article in the newspaper today. It said that it was decriminalized so that we could protect ourselves in the war.”

“Yeah,” said Carrow. “A point to Gryffindor...for, uh, reading the newspaper.”

“Thank you,” said Douglas, surprised. “But I have a question.”

Ginny exchanged a sudden, worried glance with Luna. 

“A question?”

Douglas nodded. “Yes. Personally, I can’t see how the Imperius Curse could be used in self-defense. If you’re close enough to use such a spell, wouldn’t it make more sense to use an offensive jinx or something. I want to know what standards the Ministry will be using to monitor the use of the spell.”

Professor Carrow looked both perplexed and annoyed. “I have no idea how the Ministry plans to monitor those who use the curses. All I know is that it has been decriminalized, and that’s all you should bother with remembering. That’s not an important question. Only stick to important questions in my classroom.”

Douglas opened his mouth to say something more, but one of their classmates, Jun Li, kicked him discreetly under the table. Professor Carrow returned to the poor mouse in his hand. He placed it on the desk, drew an invisible square around it with his wand, and then released the immobilizing spell that held it still. The mouse immediately darted for the edge of the desk, but it quickly encountered the magic barrier. Tiny paws patted the air around it, looking for some sort of purchase. Ginny suddenly felt queasy. 

“Now, I will demonstrate the three curses for you today. We will not be using them right now but rest assured that we will get to them later on in the curriculum. I will start with the Imperius Curse.”

He raised his wand above the little mouse, who was still trying to find a way out of the invisible box. “ _Imperio!_ ”

Ginny watched as the mouse froze, whiskers twitching. Professor Carrow removed the barrier, and then the mouse suddenly sauntered across the desk on two feet. It spun around in circles, swung its tail around like a lasso, and even danced a little two-step. He then made it skip and do a backflip. Nobody laughed except their professor, who seemed to find the sight immensely funny. At the table behind Ginny, Alannis was making quiet little whimpering noises.

“Boring lot, you are,” Professor Carrow said indignantly. “The other sixth year class thought it was hilarious.”

Ginny did not find this statement surprising, especially since the other sixth year class contained mostly Slytherins. She felt sorry for the poor Hufflepuffs who had to endure that. Carrow tried a few more times to entice a chuckle from them. The mouse played jump rope with its own tail and then hopped around like a kangaroo. A few of the Ravenclaws offered little smiles of acquiescence, but otherwise, the class was entirely silent. 

Carrow released the spell. The mouse lay panting on the desk, unused to stretching its body to such capacities. “That was the Imperious Curse. It gives you complete control of your target. You have to have a strong, willful mind to control another, but it is something that you can practice. The next spell is the Cruciatus Curse.”

Once again, he pointed his wand at the little mouse. “ _Crucio!_ ”

It let out a little scream, its body twitching on the surface of the desk in agony. Ginny had never imagined that such a pitiful sound could come from such tiny creature, and she felt every nerve in her body cringe away from the noise. Even though she had seen the Cruciatus Curse a few times before — with the most recent being yesterday — it still did not prepare her for the experience. Beside her, Luna flinched visibly. 

When the spell was removed, the little mouse flopped over onto its side. It struggled to its feet almost instantly and darted for the edge of the desk. Carrow watched the desperate bid for freedom with a morbid fascination on his face. When it was almost to the edge, he pointed his wand and said; “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

There was a green flash of light and a rushing sound. In the blink of an eye, the little mouse was dead. Momentum carried its body all the way off the desk and onto the floor, where it lay still and unmoving. Nobody breathed a word. The classroom was silent. Underneath the desk, Luna and Ginny were holding hands so tightly that they were in danger of breaking each other’s fingers. Nausea rose in Ginny’s throat, yet she did not move or blink or show any sign of weakness. Carrow was smiling.

o – o – o – o – o – o - o

_“Harry,” she said, lifting her head off his chest. “Can I ask you a question?”_

_Her boyfriend stirred sleepily, mumbled something inaudible, and ran a hand over his face (nearly dislodging his glasses in the process). It was very warm and comfortable where they lay, on a blanket under the beech tree. The only other people around were a couple of third years splashing in the shallows of the lake. Harry and Ginny had retreated here for some privacy and to continue procrastinating the mountain of weekend homework waiting for them in the Common Room. A question had come to Ginny while they dozed, and it wouldn’t leave her even when she tried to sink back into the haze of sleep. Right now, though, Harry looked so peaceful and relaxed that she almost lost her nerve._

_“Were you sleeping?” she asked._

_“No,” he lied, grinning._

_She swatted him on the arm. “Yes, you were!”_

_His green eyes glittered mischievously. In response, he cupped a hand on the back of her neck and gently pushed her down for a kiss, resuming where they had left off nearly twenty minutes ago. Ginny’s stomach fluttered pleasantly at the sensation of his lips pressed against hers, and she could feel the skin of his collarbone flush with heat beneath her fingertips. Her head spun with dizzy euphoria. He smelled good, like sandalwood and broomstick polish. When they finally broke apart, they were close enough that she could count each and every one of his eyelashes. Harry wore a relaxed smirk on his face, and his lips were slightly more red than usual after such a kiss. It was a look he wore only for her when no one else was around._

_“Didn’t you have a question?” he asked. The hand that had rested on the back of her neck was now sliding through the long strands of her hair. It felt good; Ginny liked it when Harry played with her hair._

_“It’s not really important.”_

_“Well, now I’m intrigued…”_

_“Fine,” she said, toying with how best to phrase her question. “I wanted to ask you what the Killing Curse looked like.”_

_“Why do you want to know a thing like that?”_

_“Well, for my Defense O.W.L., but also...I was wondering what happened the night your parents died.”_

_Harry blinked. “Oh.”_

_That smirk he wore had disappeared, but he was neither angry nor upset at the question. He drew back a little, regarding her seriously. She could practically see him retreating further behind the figurative walls that kept them from real intimacy. Ginny wondered if he was trying to decide just how much to say. Harry always spoke in little half-truths; he didn’t trust her enough to reveal everything, and it was something that bothered Ginny immensely. She had never voiced her concerns out loud to him, though._

_“Well,” he started. “The Killing Curse just looks like a flash of green light.”_

_She frowned. “That’s it? Green light?”_

_“Well, there’s also a rushing noise.”_

_“Do you remember the night your parents died?”_

_Harry was not quite meeting her eyes anymore. He was staring up at the canopy of leaves overhead. “Not directly.”_

_“What do you mean by ‘not directly’?”_

_“I don’t have any substantial memories of that night, but I remember it because that’s what I remember when the Dementors get too close. I can hear my parents yelling, mostly. My father told my mother to take me and run before he rushed out to face Voldemort. I can also hear my mother pleading for my life, as well as her scream when she...died.”_

_“That’s horrible,” said Ginny in a whisper._

_Harry shrugged. “It is what it is.”_

_He was still not looking at her, so Ginny lay back down against the blanket beneath them. She was curled on her side so that she could look at his profile; watch the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. They were just teenagers, struggling beneath the weight of memories that they should not have been forced to endure in the first place. She had always wondered. Of course, Tom had pried her for every last detail, but she had only known the bare minimum. Which, in hindsight, had been a blessing._

_“You know,” said Ginny, changing the subject. “Green is my favorite color.”_

_“Well, I didn’t know that,” Harry responded. “Is it really? Like Slytherin green?”_

_“Merlin, no,” she said, knowing that the moment had passed. Harry had turned back to her. “I like dark green, like earthy green...or the color of trees that stay green through the winter.”_

_“Or the color of the Holyhead Harpies uniform?”_

_She scoffed playfully. “Oh, shut up.”_

_“Make me, Weasley,” he said, laughing. The smirk had returned._

_His hand was once again at the back of her neck, fingers intertwined in her long hair. Green was her favorite color: green like his eyes. She could spend an entirety staring into his eyes. Ginny leaned forward to kiss him once again._

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Neville walked them to Muggle Studies, his own hands shoved deep within the pockets of his robes. He didn’t try to make conversation, or offer any sort of explanation for what they had just been forced to witness, but Ginny still appreciated the gesture nevertheless. Lunch had been a silent affair.

“ _...the only way we’re going to get through this is if we stick together._ ”

It was a mantra that Ginny had been repeating over and over in her head since the demonstration in Practical Magic. Alone, they were like the mouse, destined for torture and possibly death at the hands of the Carrows. Together, however...well, it was the best chance they had. 

When they finally reached their destination, Neville turned to them and offered a small, understanding grimace. It was a true mark of camaraderie. Ginny tried to offer him a smile in return, but she could not muster the strength to do it. She was very tired, and they still had another double period with a Death Eater.

“She’s a lot easier than her brother, I promise,” Neville said.

Ginny nodded absently.

“Just...keep your chin up and think about Thursday.”

“Right,” said Luna, looping her arm around Ginny’s. “Thursday.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just two more days. That’s what I keep telling myself. Then they are going to regret their decision to ever stepped foot in Hogwarts.”

“I look forward to it,” Ginny replied. “See you later.”

They watched Neville head back down the corridor toward the Grand Staircase for his next class. He passed a group of timid first years, and Ginny found it amusing that he stood head and shoulders above all but the tallest of them. This did not stop him from offering a friendly smile, though, and when one of them asked where History of Magic classroom was located, he pointed them in the right direction. 

_He’s a good kid_ , thought Ginny. _Better than most_.

The bell that signaled the end of lunch had not yet been rung, and they joined the line waiting to get into the classroom. Ginny and Luna found themselves standing behind Ida, who was carefully brushing away the tear tracks that were still evident on her face. Douglas was frowning at the things Jun Li was hurriedly whispering to him. None of them acknowledged Ginny though, which suited her just fine.

When the bell rang, the door automatically swung inward to let them inside. Professor Carrow was not there yet, evidently still making her way upstairs from the Great Hall. Ginny had never been inside the Muggle Studies classroom before. She had considered taking the class back in third year, at her father’s enthusiastic suggestion, but she chose Arithmancy instead. The Muggle Studies classroom was structured for lectures, with raised benches on either side of the room and a platform for the teacher at one end. It was not decorated very intricately, but some effort had been made by the teacher to convey the change in curriculum. There were pictures evenly spaced along the walls, depicting grotesquely drawn Muggles with large and exaggerated facial features. All of them were drawn as monsters; some attacked wizards with what Ginny recognized as guns, while other pictures showed them beating their offspring with wooden paddles. One picture even depicted a car crash. The Muggle’s blood and guts were strewn across the pavement while onlookers stood around and ogled the scene. 

On a table by the teacher’s desk, there were stacks upon stacks of pink brochures ready to be distributed. Ginny caught a glimpse of the title: _Mudbloods and the Dangers They Pose to a Perfect Pureblood Society_.

Luna was also looking around at the pictures. Her grip on Ginny’s arm suddenly tightened. “Ooh, I just got an idea for our first project.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked.

“Our first project for...you know...our study club!”

“Oh! Good!”

Right at that moment, however, Professor Alecto Carrow hurried into the classroom, her face furrowed into lines of fury. They watched her stomp to her desk, pull out a stack of detention slips, and then furiously march back outside. Ginny exchanged a bewildered look with several of her classmates. No one had even taken a seat yet.

“What was that about?” asked one of the Ravenclaws.

“There was a commotion with a couple of first years,” said another, shrugging.

Ginny looked at the empty seats situated around the classroom and unhooked her arm away from Luna. “Save me a spot, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“But where are you going?” Luna asked.

“Bathroom,” she replied. “I’ll be back before the class bell.”

Ginny slipped through the incoming crowd; the halls were full of students headed to their next class after lunch. She was not entirely sure where the female Professor Carrow had gone, but she followed the shouts and commotion that originated on the Grand Staircase. Ginny crept over, practically unseen, and crouched in the doorway. She hoped that Neville wasn’t involved, but thankfully, she could not see his blond hair anywhere in the crowd. Alecto Carrow stood over a pair of first year students, both in Hufflepuff. The smaller of the two girls was crying, and the Death Eater’s hand was shaking with rage as she scribbled on a detention slip.

“But Professor Mc-McGonagall said…”

“I don’t care what she said! You are not allowed to wear such an offending pair of shoes!” said Carrow. “Filthy Muggles wear shoes like that, and you are not a filthy Muggle!”

Ginny looked down. The little girl had on a pair of bright pink trainers, the kind she would have seen on a similarly-aged student in Muggle London. They looked brand new. Such alterations were not exactly allowed by the Hogwarts dress code, but most teachers would have just given a verbal reminder, especially to a first year on the second day of school. It did not seem as though Professor Carrow was going to let something so trivial go without punishment. And then suddenly, Ginny had a wonderful idea. 

Withdrawing her wand from the inside pocket of her robes, Ginny pointed it at Professor Carrow and watched as the entire stack of detention slips rocketed from her hands and fluttered like confetti over the bannister of the Grand Staircase. Luckily, her chuckle of triumph was disguised underneath Carrow’s scream of fury. She reached for the ones still floating above her head, nearly losing her balance as the stairs chose that precise moment to move. Before anyone could realize that she was there, Ginny crept back up the corridor and slipped into her classroom right as the five-minute bell rang.

“She’s going to be a little late to class,” Ginny said, plopping down in the seat next to Luna.

Luna grinned. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she replied, batting her eyelashes innocently. The prank had given her the rush of energy that she so desperately needed after such a brutal morning. “A gust of wind took all of Professor Carrow’s detention slips. Such a shame!”

“Nice!” 

“Anyway, what was your idea?”

Luna gestured to the tables with the brochures still sitting expectantly on the table. “We pass out fliers.”

“Fliers for what?”

“For the D.A.,” Luna whispered.

Ginny shook her head. “I’m not passing out any fliers. I’m trying not to give them any excuse to go after my family, remember?”

“Sorry, I meant we leave fliers around for people to find.”

Ginny shushed her just as the door banged open once more. Professor Carrow hurried in, puffing hard from exertion. Her face was nearly as beet-red as her hair. She threw a bunch of crumpled detention slips back into a desk drawer, and then she turned to face them. The entire class was already seated. Quills sat poised in inkwells and rolls of parchment lay uncurled on the desktops. If Carrow was surprised or appreciative, she did not show it. 

“I’m Professor Carrow. Remain quiet while I pass out your textbooks and Ministry-approved pamphlets.”

Ginny nudged Luna with her elbow. She then took out her quill and scribbled on a spare piece of paper hidden under her roll of parchment.

_Why fliers?_

Luna double-checked to make sure that Carrow was not watching, and then she wrote: _To coincide with the Quibbler on Saturday._

_Those are going to get banned, you know. Just like 4th year._

_Exactly._ There was a smile on Luna’s face. She looked excited. _Do you remember what happened when Umbridge banned the Quibbler back then?_

“Oh yeah,” Ginny whispered, surprised. How could she have forgotten? Almost everyone in the school had read it.

Professor Carrow was now making her way down the second aisle. Ginny barely remembered to vanish their writing just in time to receive her new textbook and pamphlet. She accepted hers with the fakest smile she could muster. The book was entitled, A Study of Inferiority; the Muggle Lifestyle. On the front cover was a picture of a toaster, very similar to the one Ginny’s father had stashed in his shed. She pushed the book to the farthest corner of her desk where it would remain until the end of class. She had no plans to actually open it.

When Carrow moved along to the next row, Luna pulled the parchment back to her. _Think about it: everyone is very confused right now. This will clear up any confusion. Might as well let them know exactly where we stand._


	5. Dumbledore's Army Returns

### CHAPTER FIVE: Dumbledore’s Army Returns

_Dear Ron,_

_School is not the same without you here. I miss seeing you in the common room every day, and I keep thinking of things to share with you even though I know that you are so far away. This morning, at breakfast, somebody made Seamus laugh while he was drinking orange juice. It came out of his nose and got all over the table. Made me think of that one time I made you laugh while we were sneaking a sip from dad’s stash of Firewhiskey the summer before my third year. I can’t even imagine how bad that hurt. You hollered so loud that mum found our hiding spot in the chicken coop. To this day, I think that might be the maddest she’s ever been at me. I still swear she’s part banshee._

_I told Neville that joke you told me at the beginning of the summer...you know, the one with the Muggle barmaid. He said it was the best he’d heard in a long time, but I wish you would have been the one to give it. Out of kindness, of course. I’m still better at the punchline._

_Professors Carrow and Carrow are about what you would expect. We’re learning a lot of really interesting jinxes in Defense Against the Dark Arts...wait, sorry, it’s no longer called that anymore. Now we have The Study of Practical Magic, or just Practical Magic for short. Or just Dark Arts, whichever you prefer. Boy Carrow says that we are doing the same curriculum as Durmstrang! Can you believe it?_

_Don’t worry about Muggle Studies. You’ll be able to jump right in when you return. Girl Carrow’s class is actually pretty easy in comparison. I got an E on an open book quiz this morning without even opening the book. The trick is to just write some variation of “Muggles are Bad” for every question and...tada! Easy grade!_

_But really, you are not missing much here at Hogwarts. They canceled Quidditch, and there’s nothing to look forward to anymore. You should listen to the Chudley Cannons game on Sunday. They are going to get their butts kicked by the Ballycastle Bats. Can’t wait to rub it in your face._

_I miss you terribly, and I hope that you feel better soon._

_Ginny_

o - o - o - o - o - o - o

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I’m counting down the days till Christmas. I love and miss you. Tell the family I said hello._

_Ginny_

o - o - o - o - o - o - o

Ginny looked over her letters several times. She was not quite satisfied with it, but the work that had gone into keeping up the pretense meant that she could not change anything at this point...close as she was to sending it. Her parents would understand, of course. Choppy language aside, the main purpose of the writing was whether it could get past the Death Eaters without them detecting her true intent. She was confident in her abilities. Although none of it would have been possible if it hadn’t been for her father and his stroke of genius.

“Alannis, can I borrow Circe?” she asked.

Her roommate looked up from her homework, some advanced textbook on Ancient Runes that Ginny would have never been able to understand. “Um, sure. How long would she be gone?”

“Just a few days or so,” Ginny replied. “She’ll be going to my house, and my mum would make sure to spoil her rotten again.”

“Okay,” Alannis said.

Ginny twisted the end of her skirt. “I should warn you, though. People are reading our mail. Not that I think anything’s going to happen to her…”

For a moment, Alannis’s expression was unreadable. Then she nodded and called her barn owl down from the perch by the window. “I trust you. Plus, Circe knows how to fight, so I’m sure she would stick up for herself.”

The owl hooted in response. 

“Thanks,” Ginny said. She was very grateful toward her roommate. Normally, she would have just asked Ron or Harry, but that wasn’t possible anymore. Harry’s snowy owl Hedwig died in the skirmish over London, and Pigwidgeon was currently being used by Bill and Fleur. She could have just used a school owl, but Circe already knew the way to her house from previous trips and her mother always made sure that her friend’s owls were treated like royalty. Circe stood very still while Ginny tied the letter to her leg, and then, with a silent sweep of her wings, she was out the window and gone from sight. 

“Is everything okay at your house?” Alannis asked very quietly.

Ginny had already returned to her bed, so she took a moment before responding. It was late in the afternoon, almost dinner, and the sun had not yet dipped below the horizon. There were clouds hanging low and unnatural in the sky, but it could have very well been just a normal September afternoon. “Yeah, I think so. Things have been rough with my brother being so sick.”

“I know. It must be awful,” she replied. “And I can’t imagine that all this nonsense about Harry is helping matters.”

At the sound of his name, Ginny froze. “Yeah,” she said carefully.

Alannis looked contrite. “For the record, I don’t believe he’s responsible for anything. He never seemed like a horrible kid, so you don’t have to pretend around me.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

For a split second, Ginny almost went on to tell the girl about her plans for that evening. After dinner, she would be sneaking up to the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor to get ready for their first official D.A. meeting of the year. Alannis was not a member, but her words made Ginny seriously consider inviting her. Something held her back, though. Trust was not a luxury she could afford to waste. 

“I’m going to dinner. Would you like to join me?” she asked Alannis.

The other girl shook her head, her short dark hair swinging forward to frame her face. “No thanks. I have to finish this chapter, and Ida should be back soon. I’ll go with her.”

“See you later, then” Ginny said.

In the Great Hall, Ginny found Luna sitting at the Ravenclaw table by herself. She had a book of complex charms propped open against her goblet of water, and she was reading intently. Ginny sat down next to her without stopping by her own house table; it was all the same food, after all. She helped herself to the steak and kidney pie. 

“Hello, Ginny,” Luna said in between mouthfuls. “I wondered when you would arrive.”

“Any sign of Snape tonight?” Ginny asked.

Luna shook her head. “None. I snuck a look at the Prefect rotation. It’s the Head Girl and Pansy Parkinson tonight, and you know Daphne Greengrass isn’t going to want to do anything. Also, I think Sprout is the professor on duty this week…so that means we only have to worry about the Aurors and the Death Eaters.”

“How did Daphne Greengrass get to be the Head Girl again?” Ginny asked, shaking her head.

“Slytherin Nepotism?” Luna suggested. “Or the fact that she _isn’t_ Pansy?”

“It’s probably one of the two. Good work gathering information,” Ginny said. She was watching people as they walked through the door. Ernie MacMillan entered with a few of his Hufflepuff friends, and the two of them briefly made eye contact before he sat down for dinner. Even though he was reluctant to risk the Head Boy badge, Ginny knew for sure that he was joining them later on tonight. He had been overjoyed when Neville asked him on Tuesday.

Luna pushed back her empty plate. “Do you still want to be the first ones?”

“Yeah, hang on.” Ginny quickly finished off the rest of her plate. She was now being careful to eat at every meal. Unlike Ron, who could literally eat his way through an apocalypse, Ginny was more prone to skip food whenever she was particularly nervous...and she was definitely nervous about this first meeting. Her mother was the exact same way (even though she often compensated by cooking more for everyone else when times were rough). 

Once they were finished with their dinner, the two girls headed up to the seventh floor alone. They were the first ones to do so out of the D.A., and the halls were relatively empty now that classes were done for the day. In fact, they barely passed anyone at all. Luna kept up a conversation about her research on Protean Charms while Ginny listened, pausing only to inject a one-word answer to satiate Luna’s explanation. In actuality, she wasn’t paying much attention to her friend’s words. This was partially due to the fact that she found Protean Charms boring, but mostly because her mind was focused on what they needed from the Room of Requirement.

“Okay,” said Luna, finally. “This is it.”

They stood in front of a blank stretch of wall on the seventh floor. It seemed rather innocent enough, but Ginny knew from experience that it contained a lot more than a first glance would have revealed. Hogwarts held many wonderful secrets, but this room was the epitome of wonder. Just thinking about it made Ginny feel nostalgic; the D.A. had been her favorite part of fourth year. It would have been nice if they could have continued it last year, especially when she had been studying for her O.W.L.s, but in all honesty, the thing she had missed the most had been the excuse to stare at Harry for the better part of an hour. 

“Should I do it, or should you?” Ginny asked.

“I think I can do it,” Luna replied.

“Okay, just make sure it’s _extra_ safe.”

Ginny took a giant step backwards away from the wall to give Luna space. Slowly, Luna walked up and down the corridor, her blue eyes squeezed shut in an effort of concentration. When she finally rounded the corner on the third lap, a door materialized right into the wall. 

Ginny clapped her hands in appreciation. “Well done, Lovegood.”

“Do you really think so?” Luna asked.

“Let’s check it out.”

They pulled open the door and slipped inside. The room was almost exactly as Ginny remembered it from two years ago, although a little touch of Luna had been thrown in to compliment what Harry lacked in imagination. In fact, she had added almost an entire classroom in the back corner, although desks had been replaced with brightly patterned cushions in light blue, purple, and canary yellow. Shelves of useful books, tables full of dark detectors, an open space for dueling, and even a practice dummy were left over from the old design. Ginny whistled appreciatively. 

“I changed it up a little bit,” Luna said, pointing to the cushions. “I thought we might need a place to hang out safely. You know, in case Snape bans us from fraternizing across houses.”

Ginny put an arm around her friend and pulled her close for a hug. “Good thinking. I thought I recognized your favorite colors.”

While they waited for the rest of the D.A. to join them, the two girls sat down in the cushions for a chat. Luna had done a good job; the room was extremely comfortable and would serve as the perfect location to hide out from the Carrows. There were no windows, however. Although natural light would have been nice, there was a something calming about the room, not unlike a cave.

Neville was the first to arrive with Ernie and Hannah Abbott. Feeling cheerful, Ginny stood up to greet them. “Welcome back!” she said. “Didn’t Luna do a nice job?”

“Yes, very,” replied Hannah.

The two seventh year boys took a moment to look around. The room had even given them Harry’s old notice board, complete with Moody’s photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Ginny could see Neville eyeing it as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted it there or not. 

“It should do wonderfully,” Ernie said. “Do you think we can get it to exit to different parts of the castle like it did back in fifth year? I’m sure that will come in handy.”

“I don’t see why not,” Luna replied brightly. 

Over the next half-hour, the rest of the D.A. trickled through the door. First there was Seamus, and then Lavender and the Patil twins arrived shortly after. Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner arrived together. Ginny pointedly ignored her ex-boyfriend. She didn’t have any hard feelings toward Michael, it was more due to the fact that he had been a very poor choice as a first boyfriend and a first kiss. Michael, likewise, ignored her. Ginny had no way of knowing whether he was still dating Cho Chang (ironically, Harry’s ex-girlfriend), but found that she only mildly cared. He had only been a phase, a phase that had mostly involved brooding and suggestive attempts to catch his attention. Dean and Harry had certainly been an improvement after that.

Susan Bones arrived next, leading a girl Ginny knew by sight only. They perked up as she joined them, but Ginny watched her suspiciously while she crossed the room. Of course, Neville said that they could bring someone else, but Ginny hadn’t actually expected anyone new to come. This girl was very short, but pretty. She had dark skin, brown eyes, and black hair that was tightly braided. 

“Guys, this is my friend Megan Jones,” Susan started.

“Hello,” they replied cautiously. 

Megan smiled warmly. “Thank you for letting me come. I had no idea this was happening back in fifth year. I could’ve used it to review for my O.W.L.s.”

The last person to arrive was Terry Boot, bringing up the lead with five minutes to spare. They were a much smaller group than the one that had been started to defy Umbridge about two years ago, even with the addition of Megan Jones. Of course, they didn’t resemble anything remotely close to an Army, but it was the thought that counted most. No one talked in anticipation for the meeting to begin, but Ginny almost wished they would. She and Neville had not quite worked out the issue of a leader. They exchanged looks and then awkwardly stood up in front of the assembly.

“Thank you for coming,” Ginny started, at Neville’s prompting. “We don’t really know what is going to happen at this point, but obviously something needs to put into place. That’s what this meeting is about.”

Neville cleared his throat. “Our first meeting last time was just for interest, but I’m pretty sure that we are all interested in making a difference. We should probably talk about what’s going on right now, though…you know, in case you were out of the loop.”

“Where’s Harry?” Susan asked very seriously.

“We don’t know,” Neville replied. “He’s in hiding right now…pretty successfully, I might add.”

“We’re pretty sure that Ron and Hermione are with him, though,” Ginny added quickly.

“Although the official story is that we don’t know where Hermione is, and that Ron is very sick with Spattergroit,” Luna piped up. She was sitting off to the side on one of the fluffier cushions, a notebook propped open on her knees.

Neville blinked. “Are you taking notes?”

“Well, we need to, don’t we? Somebody needs to keep track of the meetings…and don’t worry, I always put a Scrambler Spell on my writing. You never know when someone might steal your ideas.”

“Good thinking,” Neville replied, although he still looked a little wary. “Umm, anyway…we don’t know where Harry has gone. And Ginny’s family has managed to convince everyone that Ron has Spattergroit, so we’re supposed to be really worried about him.”

“Hey, how’d you guys manage to pull that one off,” Seamus asked. “Put one of your other fifteen brothers in his bed?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Har har…because we all look like each other, right?”

“Not you, you got different parts.”

Several people snickered. Neville looked horrified. “Seamus…”

“It’s okay,” Ginny said wickedly. “It’s because he knows he’ll never get any closer.”

“Me? With Harry Potter’s girlfriend? I don’t have a death wish.”

Ginny became very serious. “Oh, that’s another thing. Do NOT tell anyone that Harry and I are still going out…because we aren’t, and that could come back and hurt my family.”

“But _are_ you still together?” Lavender asked. 

“What? No. What did I just say?”

“You guys kissed though,” Luna pointed out. “On his birthday, remember?”

“Luna!” Ginny exclaimed. “I told you not to talk about that!”

Luna had the decency to look contrite, but the damage had already been done. Ginny felt her face go red with embarrassment. Several of the girls giggled quietly, and Padma simpered; “It’s really romantic. It’s like he’s gone off to war and you’re stuck behind.”

“I’m not stuck behind anything! And I’m the one at war, not him,” she corrected hotly.

“Ginny doesn’t need Harry. If anything, he’s the one that needs her,” Hannah said. “I mean, have any of you seen her duel?”

There was a murmur of agreement. Ginny, who had not anticipated this sudden change of conversation, felt oddly grateful for the Hufflepuff girl. That was twice in the past week that she had steered Ginny away from destruction, the first time when she had gotten in an argument with Heather Barnett. Suddenly, her friendship with Hannah seemed a lot more important now.

“Ginny’s good at dueling,” Neville agreed. “Don’t make her mad or you’ll regret it.”

“And that’s a warning,” Ginny said fiercely, but she met Hannah’s eyes and covertly nodded in thanks.

Neville continued. “We really don’t have that much information other than what’s being censored to us through the media. Don’t worry, we’re working on trying to find out more, and we’re going to be prepared to fight if it’s going to come to that…but I think we should also be concerned about things going on here at Hogwarts.”

The room was silent once again now that the conversation had taken a serious turn.

“Three more people that we know of have been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse for disobeying the Carrows. At this rate, they will have tortured us all by the end of October.”

“What’s it like?” Megan asked, turning around the face Seamus.

“It’s like hot knives in your body,” said a voice. It was not Seamus who had spoken, but rather Neville instead. “Only you’re not bleeding, and it’s all in your head. Sometimes it’s rather dull, but it can be so painful that it will actually drive you mad.”

“Yeah,” Seamus agreed quietly.

Ginny looked to Neville. Although he seemed rather pale, his posture was strong and his eyes clear. She had completely forgotten that he had experienced it as well, during that fight at the Ministry of Magic…and to top it off, from the exact same woman who had tortured his parents into insanity. She fought the temptation to look at the photograph on the notice board. Frank and Alice Longbottom, she remembered, were not hard to pick out because they looked very much like their son. Ginny didn’t want to give away his secret, though. It was not hers to share, so she stared at the floor instead.

“They did it to a second year this morning.” Padma said very quietly. “A Ravenclaw. He’s a little odd…different, you know. I don’t think he purposely meant to disobey them, but he did.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Neville said. “They made it legal.”

“What happened this summer?” Terry Boot asked. “How can they get away with all of this? I mean, it’s Unforgivable…it should imply that you don’t EVER forgive it.”

Neville looked to Ginny, who cleared her throat. “I don’t know of all it. Harry’s birthday was the day before my brother Bill got married, and that’s when everything started. Rufus Scrimgeour came to see Harry. Something about Dumbledore’s will. The next day, we were celebrating — Harry was there with us, actually, but in disguise — and we got a message from the Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. He said that the Ministry had fallen, and that we were in danger. He also said that Scrimgeour had been murdered.”

Several people gasped. Ernie looked affronted. “B-but they said he retired!”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Ginny shrugged.

“Luna, your dad’s magazine printed the truth,” Susan said, her eyes wide. “I saw some guy reading it at the Leaky Cauldron, but I didn’t want to believe it.”

“My dad only prints the truth,” Luna replied in a matter-of-fact voice. 

Although a quite a few people looked skeptical at her words, nobody dared argue the point. Xenophilius Lovegood’s magazine was famous for conspiracy theories and garbage articles, but lately it only ran the cold, hard truth. Several of the members appeared frightened, they all looked back to Ginny for more information. 

“What happened next?” Lavender asked.

“It was chaos. Death Eaters started appearing out of nowhere, casting spells left and right. There were even a few Aurors in the group arresting people because they had been told we were holding some kind of terrorist meeting. Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to get away just in time, but I didn’t actually see them leave. My father had only seconds to run up to the house and drag the ghoul down from the attic so it could pretend to be Ron, but he was captured as well. They put us on house arrest for three days. It would have been longer, but I think my mother drove them nuts.”

Ginny had to hand it to the rest of the D.A.; they made a great audience. The events of that horrible night had been weighing on her for some time now, and it felt good to finally get it off her chest. “I think the worst part of it was that nobody apologized for ruining the wedding. A whole bunch of rental stuff got ruined, and we had to pay it back by ourselves. Bill and Fleur were pretty cool about it, though. They didn’t want to make my parents feel any worse than they already did.”

“Who’s the new Minister for Magic,” Megan asked.

“Some guy named Thicknesse,” Neville said. “We don’t know much about him, but…”

“…but he’s most definitely one of them,” Ginny finished. “My dad has seen him several times. He thinks it’s the Imperius Curse.”

“So,” started Michael Corner. Up until this point, he had been completely silent. Judging by the expression on his face, Ginny wondered if she was about to wish that he hadn’t spoken at all. “If we’re going to do Dumbledore’s Army again, what’s going to stop the Death Eaters from just killing us.”

“Plain and simple,” Neville replied. “We’re Pureblood. They wouldn’t dare risk the continuation of our sacred blood.”

Seamus scoffed. “It’s not going to stop them from trying to teach us a lesson, though.”

“He’s right,” Ginny said. “And you guys don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can’t promise that you won’t get hurt at some point if you are affiliated with the group.”

“I don’t care,” Padma said, surprising them all. Ginny would not have pegged her as the type to speak out first. “The boy they tortured this morning…his name is Thomas, and he didn’t know better. I am so angry, and I don’t want that to happen again if I can help it.” 

There were several words of agreement, and the chatter rose in volume as emotions charged their voices. Ginny sat back and watched the conversation. She didn’t have a say in the matter; her life had always been a series of battles, and she would keep fighting until the war was over for good. She exchanged glances with Neville and Luna, who wore matching expressions. On the bulletin board behind them, the people in the photograph shuffled around so that other members got a chance in the foreground. She caught sight of James and Lily Potter waving innocently at her, but she looked away. 

“We need to put it to a vote!” Luna interrupted loudly. “Who is in favor of restarting the D.A.?”

“What’s the point?” Seamus asked.

Ginny stood up in defense of her friend. “No, we’re going to do this properly. All in favor of restarting the D.A. raise your hands.”

It was completely unanimous. In fact, no one even hesitated to put their hand in the air. Luna, who had been poised to take a tally mark, just set down her quill and nodded. That was it then. They were all either very stupid, very brave, or some twisted combination of the two. 

“Well,” Luna said in her usual dreamy voice. “The next order of business is to vote for a leader. I’m currently taking nominations for the position starting…now.”

“I nominate Neville,” said Hannah Abbott almost immediately. 

Ginny blinked. She had certainly noticed the attention that Hannah had been giving Neville up until this point, but this was the first time that she actually considered the possibility that it was more than just a little puppy crush. The look on Hannah’s round, freckled face clearly indicated that she thought very highly of him. Ginny quite liked this new possibility. If she was going to be single and miserable this entire year, that didn’t mean that her friends had to suffer the exact same fate. Plus, this would give her a better chance to get to know the girl who had shown her wonderful kindness twice now since the start of the school year. 

“W-what?” Neville predictably said. “Me?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, hush. I second the nomination.”

“Well, I nominate Ginny,” he said in retaliation.

“I’ll second that,” Lavender replied. “Girl Power!”

Michael Corner scowled. “Oh, come on, two Gryffindors? The other houses finally get another chance at some equal representation, and we nominate Longbottom and another Weasley?”

“Fine,” Ginny said. “How about Luna?”

There was a snicker from someone in the crowd, but before Ginny could figure out the culprit, Luna stood up. “I reject the nomination. I think we can all agree that my strengths do not include leadership…but I will gladly continue to take notes if people feel that I can be of use there.”

“Oh, Luna,” Padma said, half-exasperated and half-guilty. “Don’t push yourself down. I think you’d be a great leader.”

“While I do appreciate the kind words, Padma, I believe there is great wisdom in accepting your strengths and weaknesses. I have plenty of strengths, but I will never be a quality leader quite like Neville or Ginny.”

Neville blushed scarlet. “It’s still open to other people as well.”

There was a moment of silence where everyone all looked at each other. Finally, Ernie Macmillan stood up. “Well, if no one’s going to suggest a Hufflepuff, can I nominate myself?”

Ginny pulled a face, but Neville quickly said; “Of course you can!”

“I’ll second that nomination,” said Susan Bones.

Luna, who had resumed sitting, looked down at her notebook. “Okay, we have Neville, Ginny, and Ernie running so far. Any other takers?”

There was silence. 

“Then we’ll have a vote,” said the Ravenclaw. “Could you guys step over by the door and not look while we decide?”

The three of them went off to where Luna had indicated. Although Ginny didn’t really care whether she got the position or not, she was a little thrown off by the formality of the decision. Neville looked nervous and Ernie seemed unconcerned, which did not make the youngest Weasley feel any better. This was a very serious matter, and whoever wound up being the leader had to be both confident and self-assured. Ginny knew exactly who she wanted to be in charge, but looking at him now, she wasn’t so sure whether he fit either of those qualifications at the moment.

“I can’t do this,” Neville said. “Why would anyone want me for a leader? I’m not Harry.”

There were a lot of things that Ginny wanted to say in response to that, but she couldn’t bring herself to say something mean. “We don’t need another Harry right now,” she finally relented after a long pause.

“It’s the absolute truth,” Ernie said. “Can you imagine? We’d probably wind up doing something stupid and rash.”

“Exactly,” replied Ginny. “He has that effect on people. We need someone calm, someone who can keep us focused without risking anyone’s safety.”

Ernie caught her attention, and he briefly glanced at Neville to show that they were both thinking the same exact thing. The older Gryffindor was too busy sweating to notice them. Ginny raised her eyebrows in agreement, but before they could continue their silent conversation, Luna called them back to the group. Glancing around at the faces, she could not determine the outcome based on visual cues alone. Luckily, however, she did not have to wait long. Luna was usually pretty forthright…even if her head was always in the clouds.

“Neville won, with Ginny in close second.”

A mixture of disappointment, fear, and anxiety briefly crossed Neville’s face, but he hurriedly put on a mask of bravery. They all clapped politely. Ginny, relieved but cognizant of her own defeat, took a seat on one of the cushions next to Luna. Ernie, likewise, sat down. Neville was left standing all alone at the front. 

“Thank you,” he said. “First order of business: Can…can I appoint people to specific jobs?”

He had looked to Luna, who shrugged. “You’re the leader.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t want this to be a dictatorship. I want you guys to have a say, because I’d like to appoint Ginny as my second-in-command.”

She had seen this coming, of course, but number two was a whole lot better than being solely responsible. Ginny nodded and stood up once again. “I accept if nobody objects.”

Nobody did object, but Michael Corner rolled his eyes.

“Good,” Neville said, with Ginny by his side. “I want Luna to continue…um, taking notes. Also, I need Ernie as well.”

“We need someone to keep track of the prefects and the patrol schedule, if that’s okay with you. Plus, you can be our liaison with the professors,” Ginny added.

“Definitely, and we’ll need your help monitoring everyone’s safety,” Neville finished.

Ernie blinked. He looked taken aback, but he recovered in time to say; “Yes, thank you. I’d be glad to help.”

“Great,” said Neville. He looked back to Luna. “And the last official order of business for today?”

“Oh yes,” Luna replied. “Terry, you have the floor.”

Terry Boot stood up, sweeping his long brown hair out of his eyes. He held in his hand a roll of parchment and a quill. He placed both of them on the table and stepped back. “This is very similar to what Hermione did for the original Dumbledore’s Army. The sign-up sheet is cursed, so if you tell anyone about our group, we’ll know almost immediately.”

Neville made a point of being the first to sign up. He passed the quill on to Ginny, who wrote her name directly underneath his. She then passed it Ernie, who passed it on to Luna, and then so on and so forth. Anthony Goldstein was the last of them to put his name down. He placed the quill solemnly next to the paper after he was finished and then took a step back. There were only fourteen names on the sheet of paper; insignificant in comparison to the original Army. 

“Okay,” Neville started. He seemed to realize the enormity of the situation. “We are not a very big group, but we will do whatever we can to make a difference. Ginny and Luna had some ideas for recruiting new members. Our number one priority, however, should be to assist Harry whenever possible. We’re in the middle of a war, and he’s the good guy. Second priorities should be to dismantle Snape’s reign over Hogwarts and protect the younger students.”

“All in favor?” Luna asked quietly.

“Aye,” said Dumbledore’s Army.


	6. The Flyers on the Wall

### CHAPTER SIX: The Flyers on the Wall

Friday afternoons, Ginny had come to realize, were going to be difficult. Faced with the freedom of the weekend after surviving Death Eaters, homework, and D.A. meetings, her Advanced Potions class with Professor Slughorn was going to feel like an unnecessary barrier. Why she was taking Potions, Ginny didn’t have the faintest idea. She had signed for the class because Ron had taken it, but she was quickly reconsidering this idiotic decision. Although she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do after Hogwarts (besides play Quidditch, of course), it was already becoming apparent that no future job of hers would ever require any skill taught by Horace Slughorn.

(Ginny felt this way about most of her classes, but none of them were currently standing in the way of the weekend.)

The class itself was very mixed; Slughorn only required Exceeds Expectations to continue on with the subject. He stood up at the front, occasionally mopping his brow with a handkerchief and looking anxious, while the rest of them sat over bubbling cauldrons. There were a couple of Ravenclaws and a Slytherin, as well as Heather Barnett. The homeschooled student, as it turned out, was rather good at Potions. Ginny pointedly ignored her. The only friend she had in the room was Alannis, but her roommate was not very chatty in large group. In fact, nobody spoke much at all. The only sound was the bubbling of the cauldrons.

They were supposed to be working on the Draught of Living Death, but Ginny’s potion had been more blue than purple when it came time to turn it in. Professor Slughorn’s bushy eyebrows furrowed when she handed the vial to him, but she didn’t wait around for her classmates to finish cleaning up. Within moments, Ginny was out of the dungeons, up the stairs, and into the front courtyard. Luna was waiting patiently for her.

“I’m all sweaty,” Ginny said. “We were brewing the Draught of Living Death.”

“That sounds boring,” Luna replied sympathetically. Unlike Ginny, Luna had not continued on with Potions. She was much more interested in subjects like Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, but she had also not received a grade high enough to continue. Ravenclaws were definitely smart, but only in areas where they actively pursued knowledge. Luna preferred being outdoors.

“Race you down to the Quidditch pitch?” Ginny asked enthusiastically.

“With all my books?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Fine, then you can carry mine.”

She passed over her school bag, and then removed her robe and tie. Before Luna even had a chance to object, Ginny took off running. She raced across the covered bridge and past the standing stones, grateful for her decision to wear trousers under her robes this morning instead of the usual skirt. The weather outside was not perfect, but at least the clouds overhead did not release any rain. Ginny probably would not have cared either way. It had been almost a week since she had ridden a broom. That should have been a criminal offense.

She hurried past the Quidditch Pitch and straight to the broom shed, skidding to a halt in the gravel pathway. There was a padlock on the door the size of a Bludger, heavy and rusting. Disappointment and dismay rose her stomach like molten lava. She yanked at the door, but it would not budge.

“ _Alohomora!_ ” She shouted, jabbing at the padlock with her wand.

When nothing happened, she let out a snarl of fury and kicked the door. Then she rattled the wooden frame and beat it with her fists.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she shouted, accenting each shout with a punch or a kick.

“Ginny?”

She whipped around, expecting confrontation, and found herself face-to-face with a dead polecat. Disgruntled, she took a step backwards. The creature was swinging upside-down, mouth open to reveal a lolling pink tongue. Ginny looked up; Hagrid was peering at her from underneath his shaggy, tangled mane of hair. Concern radiated from his crinkled black eyes. He was carrying the dead polecat from a raised fist, and several others were slung across his shoulder.

“Hagrid!” she said.

Luna hurried down the path, panting slightly from the combined weight of both school bags. “Hello, Hagrid. Good to see you!”

Hagrid was still staring at Ginny. “Yeh alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Just...frustrated. Do you know why they put a lock on the broomshed?”

“Well, that’ll be the Quidditch ban, won’ it?”

Ginny tugged half-heartedly on the door again, not really expecting anything to happen. She had half a mind to blow it right off the hinges. “Oh.”

“Come have tea with me?” Hagrid asked gently. “Been meanin’ to have yeh over. Made some fresh rock cakes last night that’ll soften up real nice if we put ‘em in the sun.”

“Sounds great!” said Luna.

Ginny nodded, defeated. “Only, can we sit outside? I’ve been feeling a little cooped up lately.”

“No problem!” said Hagrid.

They headed over to his little hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid whistling merrily as he ambled onward at the lead. On the other side of a picket fence stood Witherwings the Hippogriff (formerly known as Buckbeak). He was dozing lazily in the sporadic sunshine that filtered down through the clouds. Hagrid called his name and then tossed him a few of the dead polecats, which the Hippogriff enthusiastically awoke to devour. A row of small pumpkins lined the walkway, with several new growths budding on the tangled vines. By the back door, a flock of brown chickens pecked at the ground.

Ginny froze, feeling suddenly sick to her stomach.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

_Ginevra, obey me…_

_There is nothing but the light of the moon to guide her, but he doesn’t need it. She stumbles down the path to the Forest, fighting back with every fiber of her being. He’s the one in control. Foolish girl, how can she possibly resist the will of Lord Voldemort? Weak. But she is fighting him; something is working. Wait a minute, she’s not supposed to be outside! It’s past curfew! What if the professors catch her! What is her mother going to say? She’s going to be in so much trouble. Stupid, blood-traitor of a mother. The little girl filters in and out of conscious thought. One second she is on the covered bridge, and then the next she is on the gravel pathway down. The sound of her crying infuriates him. She needs to stop, she must resist! Her foot jerks one way, breaking up the methodical march of her possession, and she goes sprawling. She cuts her hand on a rock. Blood, sliding thick down the skin of her wrist. What in the world is she doing? Pathetic, insignificant child!_

_Ginevra, NOW._

_The haze of dream-like sleep falls over her once more and she fights it like she’s fighting sleep. When is it? Now? Later? Keep fighting. Dumbledore will never know until it’s too late! She blinks her eyes; she’s holding the body of a dead rooster. Was she the one who snapped its neck? It was easy, even with the strength of an eleven-year-old girl. The blood is on her hands. Thick, scarlet. Reflecting in the light of the moon. Is it her blood? No, wait, it’s the rooster’s blood. She wants to scream in horror, but she can’t. The buzz is in her ear is deafening. Foolish. Weak. Monster. She is a monster. What kind of monster would kill an innocent animal? Monster._

_Ginevra, you are a monster...No one will want to help a monster._

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

“Ginny, what are you looking at?”

With a jerk of her head, Ginny pulled herself back into the present moment and away from Riddle’s voice. Luna had backtracked up the path to where she now stood rooted to the spot. Those large, blue eyes were inspecting her curiously. There was nothing concerning about the clouds overhead to suggest immediate danger, but Ginny could feel the Dementors somewhere nearby, just out of sight. She felt ashamed, sick, and angry with herself. She was so weak and vulnerable.

“Just the chickens,” she replied, quelling the feeling of revulsion that rose in her chest.

Luna frowned. “No. You have a bad case of the Wrackspurts today; I can see it on your face. You should have told me, Ginny! I would have let you borrow my earrings.”

“My ears aren’t pierced, Luna.”

“I’ll make you a necklace then.”

The front door to Hagrid’s cabin was now propped open, and they could see that he was busy putting the kettle on the stove inside. Fang came bounding out to meet them, his tail wagging so hard his butt wriggled along with it. Ginny reached down to scratch his ears affectionately, and the massive boarhound half-jumped in an attempt to lick her face. She got dog slobber all down the front of her trousers, but she did not particular mind. On her right, Luna dropped both school bags on the ground and took a seat on Hagrid’s front stoop.

“Hagrid, do you have any chocolate?” she called.

“Sure do. Why d’you ask?”

“Ginny needs it. The Wrackspurts won’t leave her alone.”

Hagrid stomped out of his house and offered Ginny an enormous bar of Honeyduke’s chocolate. She accepted it gratefully, pushing away Fang’s curious nose. There was still concern etched on what little of Hagrid’s face was not obscured by his bushy beard. He reached out and patted her on the shoulder with so much unintended force that Ginny had to work not to keep her knees from buckling.

“Mus’ be the Dementors,” he said gruffly. “Been eatin’ a bar a day meself.”

“Dementors and Wrackspurts are a bad combination,” Luna added solemnly, as if Ginny had any control over the situation.

“It’s not my fault!” she exclaimed, too agitated to sit down. “They take away the best things in my life, and then I’m expected to just deal with it? To find a way to cope? I’m supposed to sit down and be a good little school girl. Learn the Cruciatus Curse like everyone else. And my family! Well, they are not much better. They won’t let me fight, but it’s still a battlefield here. I’m supposed to keep Ron a secret, but he’s off gallivanting on some ridiculous expedition with the most wanted person in Britain. Merlin knows how long that secret is going to last! Bill and Charlie still treat me like a child. Mum’s still trying to get me to wear dresses and put a bow in my hair. And then there’s Harry...he’s the worst out of all of them! He thinks dumping me will keep me safe, but all it’s going to do is make sure I die alone and miserable!”

She paused to catch her breath and noticed that both Hagrid and Luna were staring at her. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Ginny threw herself down on the front step of Hagrid’s hut and took a big bite of the chocolate. Instantly, warmth spread down her body, to the very tips of her toes and fingers. She hadn’t realized how cold she had felt.

“Yeh’re goin’ through a lot right now,” said Hagrid gently. “An’ the Dementors always affected yeh worse’n others.”

Ginny had a sudden memory of sitting at Hagrid’s scrubbed wooden table during her second year, crying her eyes out over a mug of tea. She had gone to him because she had no one else to ask why she still heard Tom’s voice when the Dementors were near, and Hagrid had been very understanding even then. Carefully, she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gave him a small grateful smile for remembering.

“Thanks, Hagrid,” she said. “I’m sorry for complaining. How have you been?”

“Not great,” he replied, turning to fetch the whistling tea kettle. Both Luna and Ginny turned around to listen to him as he busied himself over the stove. “Bloody Carrows keep spyin’ on me every time I come ter the castle. And I can’ look at Snape without wantin’ ter punch him.”

“Same here,” said Ginny.

Hagrid laughed. “How bout’ I hold him down an’ yeh punch?”

“I have six brothers,” she replied, raising her fists. “I can throw a mean right hook.”

He walked back out, carrying three large mugs balanced on a tray. Ginny reached for her tea and cradled it in her hands, enjoying the warmth it provided. Neither she nor Luna reached for the plate of lumpy rock cakes.

“Hagrid,” Ginny said. “You know we restarted Dumbledore’s Army.”

The enormous man chuckled. “Knew yeh would. Had a bet with yer brothers, though they seemed ter think it would take a few more weeks.”

“Well, we might have waited, but then Harry broke into the Ministry on Tuesday. No one expected that.”

“Yeah. I hope he’s okay,” said Hagrid.

“Me too,” Luna replied.

Ginny tried to take a sip of her tea, but it was still too hot for her to handle. Instead she breathed in the scent and let it calm her. For a few seconds of silence, they sat and watched the wind whistle through the trees. The trunks were so close that Ginny could not see further than a couple of feet. The shaded gloom looked ominous even from this distance. She had never been in there before, but she always marveled about how casually Harry talked about his adventures deep within the Forbidden Forest.

“I’ll do me best to help yeh when I can, but I don’ know how long I’ll be here,” said Hagrid seriously.

“You planning on leaving us?” Ginny asked.

“I’m not plannin’ it,” he grunted. “They have it out fer me. Only a matter of time.”

Ginny exchanged a nervous look with Luna. “You’ll be careful, though, right?”

“Could say the same fer you.”

“Definitely. Where’s Grawp?”

Hagrid waved one of his dustbin sized hands in a vague direction. “Sen’ him higher up in the mountains. Didn’ want ter risk it with Snape as Headmaster. I go ‘n visit him every two weeks or so. He doesn’ like ter see me go. I think he knows somethin’ bad is happenin’.”

“He cares for you,” said Luna. “He’d be very upset if you got hurt.”

“I know,” Hagrid replied, and then he stood up rather suddenly. “Come with me. I got somethin’ ter show yeh.”

Ginny and Luna followed Hagrid around to the back of his hut, Fang trotting obediently at their heels. Witherwings raised his head, blood still dripping from his razor-sharp beak, and watched them curiously with bright orange eyes. Luna went over to him and bowed low to the ground. The Hippogriff returned the gesture and allowed her to stroke his luxurious gray feathers. Ginny, meanwhile, looked over to where Hagrid was pointing. He had a separate garden growing in the back corner of the paddock. There was chicken wire covering it to keep out the rabbits, and he pulled it back to let her inspect the tiny leaves poking out of the freshly tilled earth.

“Dittany?” Ginny asked. She recognized the plant easily.

“Professor Sprout and I have a couple o’ secret batches goin’,” said Hagrid. “Just in case. If somethin’ happens ter me, I wan’ yeh ter remember the Dittany. Great fer healin’. I’ve made sure that me animals will be safe, but the Dittany is fer the D.A.”

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she replied quietly. “I’ll make sure to spread the word.”

“Jus’ promise me yeh won’ go lookin’ fer trouble on purpose. I stay awake worryin’ every night. Tough enough bein’ a teacher and knowin’ yeh can’ protect yer students.”

Ginny’s tea was only just now cool enough to drink. She took a long sip as she considered how best to respond. “I wish I could promise it, Hagrid, but I can’t. I don’t know what the year is going to look like. We’ve made it our goal to try to protect the other students as best we can, but I don’t know what a bunch of sixteen and seventeen-year-olds can do. Honestly, I’m...scared.”

“Course yeh are!” he snorted, replacing the chicken wire back over his garden. “Yeh’d be mad not ter be scared. But that’s the best thing ‘bout yeh, Ginny. Yeh’ve always had a reason ter be scared, but yeh keep fightin’.”

“Well, I bloody well can’t give up,” she mumbled.

They went back to the front of Hagrid’s hut, where Luna picked up the conversation about her most recent Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid joined in enthusiastically, eating enough of his rock cakes that it wasn’t immediately obvious that neither of the two girls had touched them. Ginny was content to sit and listen, watching the sun dip lower behind the giant golden hoops of the Quidditch stadium. She finished her tea and ate a decent-sized chunk of Hagrid’s chocolate, feeling better but still slightly depressed. Fang lay stretched out in the grass by her feet, and he might have been mistaken for sleep if it wasn’t for the fact that his tail thumped wildly on the ground every time his doleful eyes met hers. Ginny liked dogs...and cats. In fact, she liked just about any kind of pet.

“It’s gettin’ late,” said Hagrid, taking their cups back inside his house. “I need ter walk yeh back ter the castle.”

“We need to get back anyway,” Luna said. “Got things to do.”

Ginny stood up, stretching and rolling her shoulders until several of her joints popped. She grabbed her book bag off the ground, brushed off the bit of dirt at the bottom, and slung it over her shoulder. Meanwhile, Hagrid coaxed Fang back inside the hut and locked the door. He stomped on ahead of them, casting an enormous shadow in the fading sunlight.

“Yeh’ll come for tea every week, won’ yeh?” he asked them.

“We’ll definitely try,” Ginny replied while Luna nodded in agreement. “Maybe we’ll bring Neville with us. He’s in charge of the D.A. now.”

“Good pick. I always liked him. Yeh can tell he’s smart, justs needed a bit ‘o confidence. Yeh better keep me informed, though. I don’ want ter stay in the dark.”

Ginny grimaced. “That reminds me. Hagrid, it’s probably better that you don’t come to breakfast tomorrow. We’re planning something. I wouldn’t want you to get blamed.”

“What yeh plannin’?”

“Just a little something to let Snape know we’re not playing any games.”

“I don’t think we should be talking about it so close to the castle,” Luna replied very seriously. She was looking around them for any signs of possible eavesdroppers. “I’m worried the Carrows might be training Nargles to spy for them.”

Hagrid snorted: “There’s no such thing as Nargles, Luna. An’ the Carrows aren’ smart enough ter train anythin’. Though, it’s prob’ly for the best yeh don’ say anythin’ out loud around me. I have a bad habit o’ runnin’ me mouth.”

“We trust you,” Ginny replied automatically. She knew that Harry would have considered it a grave offense not to trust someone as loyal as Hagrid.

“Yeh’re sweet, but this is war.”

They promised to meet Hagrid again next week for tea, and then the three of them parted ways in the courtyard. Ginny and Luna stopped by the Great Hall to grab a quick bite to eat, before they hurried up the Grand Staircase while everyone was still at dinner. Ginny’s heart beat faster in her chest. Mischief-making always had an energizing effect on her. She crammed the last bit of her sandwich into her mouth, brushing the crumbs off on the fabric of her trousers.

“Okay,” she said, pulling Luna aside. The hallway was quite deserted. They were up on the fourth floor. “Do you have your copy?”

Luna pulled out a single page. It was the flyer that they had created yesterday after the D.A. meeting. In Luna’s own artistic handwriting were the words:

**Dumbledore’s Army, Still Recruiting.**

Ginny checked her watch. “The others should be in place by now. We did really well with our timing.”

“ _Gemino_ ,” Luna said, and she created two identical thick stacks of the flyers. Ginny held her arms out to accept the stack that belonged to her.

“Okay, you have the fourth floor, and I have the third. Go straight to the library after you’re done. I’ll meet you there.”

“Be careful,” Luna warned unnecessarily.

Ginny nodded absently as she stuffed the stack of flyers into her school bag. She tried not to crease any of the corners, and she left the bag open for easy access. The two of them had paused outside a secret stairwell that led directly to the third flood corridor, and Ginny climbed down the stairs alone. Both she and Neville had volunteered to take the floors where the Carrows were located. Neville had the first floor, which had the added danger of being closest to the Great Hall, and Ginny was in charge of the third. She was also concerned about Hannah, who had volunteered to take the dungeons. It might have been the location of her own common room, but she also shared the space with the Slytherins. 

The third floor corridor, like the one directly above it, was deserted. Ginny spent a good minute looking around for any sign of movement before venturing out into the open. Using her wand, she levitated several dozen flyers and plastered them to the wall. She wasn’t going for neatness; the flyers were placed haphazardly with uneven spaces between them. When she was sure that they were appropriately stuck to the stone wall, she cast a Disillusionment Charm. The flyers vanished. They would not appear until the early hours of the morning.

Ginny moved down the corridor and repeated the process. She was starting to feel more and more comfortable about the prank. It was still just barely possible to see that there was something on the walls, but her Disillusionment Charm was strong enough that it was only visible if she knew exactly where to look.

When she neared the door to the Practical Magic classroom, Ginny doubled the amount the flyers she put up on the wall. She allowed herself a smug grin at the thought of what Amycus Carrow’s face would look like when he stepped outside of his quarters tomorrow morning.

There was a sound from the other end of the corridor. 

Quick as lightning, Ginny unceremoniously crammed the flyers that she had been about to place on the wall back into her bag, and then she darted for a narrow alcove behind the suit of armor. It was a close call; no sooner than she had hidden herself in the shadows did two voices become distinguishable in the empty corridor. A trill of fear gripped Ginny’s heart.

“It is not in our job description to locate Potter, Jugson,” said the drawling voice of Professor Snape. “Or have you forgotten already? The Dark Lord has tasked us with the job of running the school...to educate the upcoming generation of perfect Pureblood wizards. He would be most displeased if we veered too far off-course.”

“But Snape,” said the harsh voice. “Think about the glory we would get if we were the ones who provided information that led to the capture of Harry Potter. These children are bound to know something. I suggest we use — _light_ — methods of persuasion to coax it out of them. Starting with the Weasley girl…”

They crossed in front of Ginny’s field of vision. She saw Elias Jugson and Severus Snape walk by slowly. The billowing cloak Severus Snape wore only served to make him look more like the giant bat he so resembled. Ginny dared not breathe but curiosity won over any sense of self-preservation. She craned her head around ever so slightly to get a closer look.

“You conveyed to me the extent of your conversation with the Weasley girl, did you not? It sounds to me like she was just another notch on Potter’s bedpost. I wouldn’t put it past him; his father was the exact same way. Pursuing further questioning would only be a waste of time.”

“But…”

They had nearly left Ginny’s field of view, but Snape paused to face his opponent. From her current position, she could not see his expression, but there was a brief flash of alarm on the other Death Eater’s face. Ginny had to strain her ears to hear Snape’s reply: “You would do well to listen to my directions, Jugson. The Dark Lord trusts me as his most faithful servant, and I didn’t come into his favor by unnecessarily wasting his time. Heed my advice and do as you are told. I will be in my office.”

He stormed away, footsteps ringing on the stone floor. Ginny watched Elias Jugson mumbled to himself for a few seconds, and then he turned for the opposite direction. She waited until there was silence, and then she let out the breath that had been threatening to burst from her lungs. She prayed that the others would hear the Death Eaters before they were discovered. They really needed a new method of communication…

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

“What took you so long?” Neville asked anxiously when Ginny joined them in the library.

“Got interrupted,” she mumbled, dropping into the seat next to him.

Her eyes swept over the heads of the other students in the library. There had been quite a number of the D.A. involved in the prank, but they did not sit together to avoid suspicion. From one of the study carols in the corner, Lavender gave her a subtle wink. Ginny nodded once for hello and did a quick headcount. They were still missing Hannah.

Neville read her expression. “She had the furthest to walk. Maybe she’s on her way.”

“Listen; I nearly got caught by Snape and Jugson.”

“Oh no,” Neville moaned.

“I almost got caught by Jugson too,” said Luna.

Ginny looked at her. “About fifteen minutes ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, that means he definitely went upstairs then. Snape said he was going back to his office, so that means they probably didn’t run into Hannah.”

Neville did not look particularly reassured, and he jumped when Madam Pince called out: “Ten minutes till the library closes.”

“I’m going to go looking for her,” he said.

Ginny stood up so quickly she nearly knocked over her chair. “Not without me.”

“And me,” Luna said.

Several pairs of eyes darted to them in confusion. Ginny tried to wordlessly communicate with the other D.A. members, but Neville walked over to speak quietly with Seamus. The other boy nodded once in understanding, and then the three of them hurried out of the library together.

Neville did not speak until they reached the dungeons. “Does anyone know where the Hufflepuff common room is located?”

“Over by the kitchen,” Ginny replied, gesturing down the right-hand corridor. She knew the castle almost as well as Fred and George. Almost. “Should we split up or…?”

“Absolutely not,” Neville said.

Luna held up a quick hand to silence them. For the briefest of seconds, Ginny heard the sound of voices from down the opposite side of the corridor…in the direction of the Slytherin common room. She exchanged a quick glance with the other two and pulled her wand out from the pocket of the school bag she still carried with her. Neville led them onward.

Hannah was standing at the end of the long, almost tunnel-like hallway. Two hulking figures had her cornered, and although she stood ramrod straight with her chin tipped up in defiance, Ginny could see the fear in her eyes. Hannah tried to make a step to the right, but the smaller of the two figures cut her off easily, nearly pressing up against her with his body.

“Hey!” Neville shouted.

The two figures turned around, and Ginny instantly recognized Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The green trimmings on their robes stood out in the eerie gloom of the dungeon torchlight. Hannah shot them a look of pure, shameless relief.

“Hello, Longbottom,” said Crabbe. “What are you doing in the dungeons?”

“Looking for Hannah,” Neville shot back. “She was supposed to meet us in the library.”

Goyle cracked his knuckles ominously. He looked at his friend, who was leering with a confidence that Ginny had never seen on his face before. “What do they say about a guy with only girls for friends? Must be something wrong with you.”

“Come on, Hannah,” Ginny said coolly. “We’ll walk you back.”

“Yeah run away, Longbottom,” Goyle taunted. “We beat you up once and we’ll do it again.”

Neville grit his teeth, but he did not respond to the taunt. He reached out to Hannah and let her walk into the safety of their circle. The four of them retreated back down the hallway, but Ginny chose to walk backwards until Crabbe and Goyle were out of their sight. She didn’t trust them enough to turn around. She was fighting back the revulsion that had taken up residence once again in the pit of her stomach. This time, it was directed toward Slytherins. There was something about the way they were looking at her; it was very similar to the predatory expression that Amycus Carrow wore on his face.

Ginny did not put away her wand, even when they reached the round door that led to the Hufflepuff common room.

“Thank you,” Hannah said quietly.

“What were they saying to you?” Neville demanded.

Ginny could see that Hannah was shaking, but she was fighting hard to regain her composure. “They were just…well, they said…things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Unkind…things.”

Neville looked frustrated. “Hannah, what exactly did they say?”

Hannah met Ginny’s eyes in a plea for help, and in an instant, Ginny understood exactly what Crabbe and Goyle had been saying to her. That revulsion in her stomach caught fire, fueling the molten lava that seemed to burn almost constantly beneath her skin. She wondered if they would have to spell it out to Neville for him to get it. Even Luna looked uncomfortable.

“Neville, they were…threatening to, um…”

“Rape you,” Ginny finished bluntly.

There was a moment of silence while the words were being processed. Neville’s face quickly flushed with color. He looked downright furious. “I’m going to kill them.”

“No, you’re not,” Ginny replied, grabbing his sleeve as he tried to push past her. “Something tells me Snape would notice that.”

“It was just words, Neville,” Hannah said imploringly. 

“Saying something is just one step away from doing it,” he snarled.

Hannah’s eyes shone with tears. “Please don’t get yourself beat up for that.”

Neville stopped struggling with Ginny. He looked crushed by Hannah’s words. “That was back in first year. I’m much better with magic now.”

“No one doubts you,” Luna said gently. “But there’s two of them and only one of you.”

Ginny wanted to point out that she was not going to let Neville storm into a fight against Crabbe and Goyle without her as his second, but she knew it was neither the time nor place. Instead, she figured it was best to take control of the conversation: “Hannah, let us know if they try that again. In the meantime, we should probably start walking in groups of two or three. Especially when the castle isn’t busy.”

Hannah nodded absently.

“Did you get the flyers up?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I was coming back from the Slytherin corridor when they cornered me.”

“I’m still going to kill them,” Neville said.

Hannah wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Well…goodnight. I will see you in the morning.”

They waited until she was safely in the confines of the Hufflepuff Common Room, and then they started their silent track back up to the main body of the castle. There was still some time before curfew (the library always closed early on Fridays), but Ginny did not feel like socializing after witnessing such an event. She was still trying to process what had happened, and if they should tell any of the teachers.

“Do you think it’s weird that all my friends are girls?” Neville asked suddenly. They were halfway up the staircase to the first landing.

Ginny couldn’t help it. She snorted.

“You have friends who are guys,” Luna pointed out.

Neville looked annoyed. “Yeah, but all my best friends are girls.”

“The answer is no. That’s a stupid question, and if you ever ask it again, I’m going to have to hex you,” Ginny said.

Neville mumbled something inaudible, but he did not speak out again until they bid Luna goodnight in front of Ravenclaw Tower.


	7. Early Saturday

### CHAPTER SEVEN: Early Saturday

At six o’clock the next morning, a wake-up alarm rang out with screeching ferocity from somewhere deep within the castle. Ginny bolted out of bed, suddenly as awake as she had been asleep moments previously. The sun had just barely crested on the horizon, and the air inside the castle was cold and unfriendly. At some point in the night, the furnace had kicked on, rusty bellows creaking. In the dormitory, Alannis and Ida both groggily pulled back their bed curtains to stare at their alarm clocks in confusion.

“What’s going on?” Ida asked, rubbing at her eyes.

“Attention,” said the magnified voice of Severus Snape. “Please report to the Great Hall in ten minutes. Any non-attenders will be punished.”

_It’s game time,_ Ginny thought.

“Do we have time to change?” Alannis asked. Her black hair was disheveled, and she looked still half-asleep.

“I’m just going to pull my robes on over my pajamas,” Ginny said.

“Right,” Alannis yawned. She stood up, nearly fell over, and attempted to pull her robes on back-to-front.

Ginny took pity on her roommate and helped her put an arm through its appropriate sleeve. Then, they joined all the other Gryffindor girls as they descended to the Common Room. Some, like Ginny, had attempted to get halfway dressed. Others were still in their pajamas, rubbing their eyes and pulling faces.

There was foot traffic in the Common Room; several of the students had paused on their way out the portrait hole. A few were pointing at the notice board, seemingly unaware that they had caused a block that lasted all the way up the staircase. Ida, who was one of the prefects, sighed and pushed her way to the front.

“What’s the hold up?” she shouted. “Unless you want to make Professor Snape very angry, I would suggest you keep moving. We have the furthest to walk!”

She caught sight of the notice board, her face paling somewhat as she worked her bottom lip between her teeth. Ginny did not have to see what she was looking at to know why she was worried. Before going to bed last night, Ginny had tacked up a dozen of their fliers. Undoubtedly, they would also be hanging on the bulletin boards in the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Common Rooms as well. 

The traffic cleared, and a steady line of Gryffindors streamed out of the portrait hole. Ginny paused to stand next to Ida, who continued to shepherd the sleepy students across. 

“Dumbledore’s Army?” Ida asked in an undertone, glancing back at the flier. “Weren’t you in that group last time?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t,” Ginny replied.

Ida continued to look concerned. “He’s going to murder us.”

“He will if we don’t get down to the Great Hall in the next couple of minutes.”

Ginny saw Neville and Seamus nearing the queue to leave the portrait hole, and she pushed her way through the sea of students to join them. Neville wore his green bathrobe over striped pajamas, and he welcomed her with a humorless smile. Seamus only grunted. Together, the three of them left the safety of the Gryffindor Common Room and headed to the Grand Staircase. They moved quickly due to the shrinking time limit.

Professor Snape was waiting for them when they entered the Great Hall. Most of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had made it already, which left the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws to line up alongside them. Snape was prowling up at the front, fully dressed and looking as though he had never been asleep in the first place. Perhaps it was her imagination, but Ginny thought his black eyes lingered on her for far longer than chance. 

“Who did it?” he demanded when the doors finally slammed shut behind the last-minute stragglers.

There was silence. Professor Snape needed no clarification, because everyone had seen the flyers in their track through the castle. 

“We can make them talk,” growled Amycus Carrow, fingering his wand. “Start with the youngest ones.”

“I can make you stand here all day if I have to,” Professor Snape continued, speaking over his fellow Death Eater.

From the opposite side of the Great Hall, Ginny could hear several of the Slytherins whispering loudly. She took a chance and turned her head around. Pansy Parkinson was deep in conversation with a girl Ginny recognized as Daphne Greengrass. The two appeared to be in a disagreement of some sort. Daphne shook her head, and when Pansy argued back, the Head Girl grabbed her arm and pleaded with her silently. Pansy pulled away, and then she thrust her arm into the air. 

“Yes, Miss Parkinson?” Professor Snape said impatiently.

“Professor,” she started. The sound of her voice made Ginny’s blood boil. “I was just thinking: Why don’t you just punish all the students who were in the illegal student group along with Potter? They are sure to know something!”

Snape’s face was unreadable. “Miss Parkinson, there is no list. Unless you know something that I do not know…”

“But there was Weasley,” Pansy replied, faltering. “And that Granger girl! I’m sure there were others. Draco, do you remember?”

Several rows behind Pansy, Draco Malfoy flinched at the sound of his name. He was dressed in his pajamas, with a silk dressing robe hastily thrown on top. His white blond hair fell limp upon his forehead, and he looked like he would have rather been anywhere else in the world but there. “I...I don’t remember exactly.”

“You are no help!” Pansy replied shrilly. 

“Perhaps we should interview Weasley again,” said a voice from directly behind Ginny. She jumped and looked around. It was Elias Jugson, bald plate gleaming in the pale light of sun that cut through the inky darkness of the enchanted ceiling overhead. She shot him a look of deepest loathing.

“Miss Parkinson is referring to the older Weasley brother, who is not currently at school,” Professor Snape replied coolly. “Jugson, I would like you and Professors Carrow and Carrow to go remove all the fliers from the school. Meanwhile, the students will stand here until someone confesses to the crime. If they have not spoken by the time you get back, we will resort to more — extreme — methods of persuasion.”

Amycus Carrow looked downright furious at these instructions. He gave Snape a look of pure mutiny before stomping out of the room, closely followed by his sister. Elias Jugson, likewise, looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. He didn’t say anything, but he gave a curt nod and left as well. Ginny noted these particular insubordinations and set it aside for later consideration. 

Meanwhile, Snape continued to prowl up at the front of the Great Hall. “You will stand here until they return. There will be no talking or sitting down. You will receive detention on the first offense. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” came the mumbled replies. 

With an exaggerated flourish of his wand, Snape drew out a chair and sat down. His face was very pale, and he was so angry that his deep-set eyes looked like burning coals. Ginny shifted to a more comfortable position, adjusting her hips so that she did not have to lock her knees. She had already resigned herself to silence. Glancing around the Great Hall, she made eye contact with a few other members of the D.A., and she was proud to see them looking just as resolute. 

_And now we wait,_ she thought.

The seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes dragged by until they had endured entire half-hour increments in painful silence. Ginny mostly entertained herself by watching the path of the sun outside the windows of the Great Hall, but she was having a hard time staying focused. Her brain had an unfortunate habit of turning to Harry whenever she was unoccupied, and it was his face she saw now that she was trying so hard not to think of anything. Was he safe? Were Ron and Hermione safe as well? Did they have a plan? Would this be over soon?

In the row in front of her, a Gryffindor first year was swaying on his feet, obviously half asleep. Ginny watched his head dip and nod. Neville chanced a glance up at the front to make sure that Snape was staring in the opposite direction, and then he poked the young boy in the back. The first year spluttered, nearly losing his balance, but he managed to avoid detection. Neville and Ginny exchanged relieved looks.

It was almost eight in the morning by the time the Carrows returned, but this did nothing to reduce the tension in the room. Both brother and the sister looked to be in an exceptionally bad mood. Professor Snape did not rise to greet them, preferring instead to wait until they reached the front of the Great Hall before he offered them acknowledgement. He regarded them like one would look at a cockroach. Elias Jugson, Ginny noted, remained at the back of the hall.

“Do you know how many of those bloody flyers we had to track down?” Alecto Carrow demanded. “You don’t pay us to clean the place.”

“No,” drawled Snape. “But as this is a matter of potential danger, I do expect you to stamp out any ideals that may harm our students.”

“Do we know who did it yet?” Amycus wheezed.

“Not yet. It seems as though our students have nothing better to do on a Saturday morning…”

“Then we will start with the Weasley girl,” said Elias Jugson.

He pushed his way through the crowd of students to Ginny, not even waiting to hear confirmation from Snape if he was allowed to proceed. Then, several things happened in quick succession: Jugson’s hand wrapped around Ginny’s upper arm in a vice-like grip as both Neville and Seamus jumped forward to defend her. Professor McGonagall, likewise, made a move like she was going to rush to the rescue. Most importantly, however, the morning post arrived and distracted everyone completely.

Several hundred owls descended from the rafters, and it was obvious that they were momentarily confused by the lack of house tables. Each of them took several loops before finding their delivery target. Ginny wrenched her arm free to catch a letter from home, as well as a bundle from an unfamiliar owl. She unrolled the bundle to find another picture of Harry blinking up at her from the cover of the Quibbler. Elation and trepidation filled her stomach; she had almost forgotten that it was delivery day for the magazine. She turned around to find Jugson staring at the cover of the magazine in surprise. 

The front of the Quibbler read: _Harry Potter: Innocent, Framed for Murder, and on the Run for His Life._

“Give me that,” said Jugson in a dangerous voice.

Ginny handed it over. “Gladly. You can have my copy. I’ll just borrow it from someone else.”

Jugson might have responded, but the whispering in the Great Hall had grown to deafening levels. There seemed to be more copies of the Quibbler than usual, and Ginny looked over to the huddled group of Ravenclaws to see Luna standing in the midst of it all with a great big smile on her face. She winked at Ginny, who wished, for the first time in her life, that Luna had the social awareness to know that she should probably look a little less satisfied.

“ENOUGH!” bellowed Amycus Carrow. 

Only a few students turned around to obey him. The Death Eater hurried to the nearest person holding a Quibbler and ripped it from his arms. It was Anthony Goldstein. Amycus Carrow turned his wand on him and shouted: “ _Crucio!_ ”

Anthony went down with a yell of pain. Professor Carrow did not linger long, however, because he pointed his wand at the next student with a Quibbler and repeated the spell. All the students nearest to him fled, pushing up against the back wall of the Great Hall in absolute fear. In the pandemonium and confusion, almost everyone had all but forgotten that Ginny had been moments away from another interrogation with Elias Jugson. Neville pulled her back away from him, trying to put as much distance between them as it was possible at the moment.

“SILENCE!” shouted a magically magnified voice that was so loud it made Ginny’s eardrums throb in agony. 

They all fell silent and turned around to face Professor Snape, who was standing on the raised platform up front with his wand to his throat. Ginny had never seen him so angry before. His face was completely devoid of all color, except for two patches of bright red on his cheeks. He waved his wand, and they couldn’t help but flinch in fear. Instead of cursing them, however, he summoned a giant rubbish bin by the door.

“From this point onward, the Quibbler is banned from Hogwarts. You are to throw every single copy away, and then you are to go up to your dormitories and wait there for further instructions. Leave immediately.”

Neville and Seamus both marched Ginny right to the door, throwing their own copies of the Quibbler into the bin as they passed. Jugson didn’t even have a chance to turn around before they were already out into the Entrance Hall, fighting for space in the crowd of desperate students. Luna caught up with them soon after, panting slightly. She looked exceptionally happy. 

“Did you see their faces?” she exclaimed. “Daddy is going to be so happy when I tell him!”

“Shhhhh,” Neville hissed. 

“I think you should probably be quiet for the rest of the day, Luna,” Seamus said in an undertone, glancing around to make sure that none of the other students were listening in on their conversation. “They seemed pretty angry, and that magazine’s got your last name written on the front cover.”

Luna waved it off. “They don’t scare me...but just in case they do search me, you should probably take this.”

She pulled out a copy of the Quibbler from the inside pocket of her robes. Harry’s face blinked up at them for the briefest of seconds before Ginny quickly grabbed the forbidden item and shoved it down the front of her pajama shirt. She stared at Luna in amazement. “What’s gotten into you? I’m starting to think you should have been sorted into Gryffindor. No offense, of course.”

“Ravenclaws can be brave,” Luna huffed.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between bravery and stupid-bravery...and Gryffindors are the ones who are supposed to be stupid-brave.”

Luna was still smiling. “You pass that around to the other Gryffindors, okay? Daddy will have sent more directly to my dormitory. I’m going to go hide them before the Carrows come looking.”

Ginny, Neville, and Seamus watched as she skipped away, her dirty blonde hair bobbing up and down as she forced her way through the crowd of students. They didn’t linger for long, though, but rather continued straight to the Gryffindor Common Room as though the Carrows were actively pursuing them. Ginny climbed through the portrait hole first, one arm still clamped tight across the bulge in her shirt and turned around to wait for Neville and Seamus to follow.

“Give me the magazine,” Neville whispered while he was still climbing down.

She passed it along to him.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said. “How long do you think it will be until Snape changes his mind? Will I even have time?” 

He shrugged. “No idea, but you should probably move fast just in case. Meet up in our dormitory?”

“Sounds good.”

The prospect of a shower felt like a welcome relief after being forced to stand for nearly two hours. Ginny rushed up to her dormitory. She was the first of her roommates to make it back to the dormitory, and she took advantage of that fact to claim the bathroom all for herself. She quickly stripped off her robes and pajamas. Before she had a chance to turn on the shower, however, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and paused.

There was a bruise forming on her upper arm where Jugson had grabbed her. It was already a lurid shade of purple. She touched it gingerly and found that it was actually quite sore.

Having six brothers meant that Ginny knew how to take a fast shower. She was in and out before any of her roommates had a chance to return. Wrapping a towel around herself, Ginny headed back to her wardrobe to grab a fresh set of clothes. She dressed in a simple pair of Muggle jeans and one of her beloved Holyhead Harpies t-shirts before sitting down to braid her hair. She was searching for an elastic to tie on the end when Ida and Alannis finally returned. 

“Is everyone back yet?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ida replied. There was an awkward pause where she exchanged a look with Alannis. “Can we talk for a second?”

Ginny froze. “Is he looking for me?”

“What?” Alannis asked. “Who are you talking about?”

“Jugson.”

“No, Jugson isn’t looking for you. Do you think he’s going to come after you?”

“No idea,” Ginny said, stamping down the fear that had risen in her stomach. She pulled Harry’s old sweater on over her head. “What did you want to say?”

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

Ginny glanced at them. Both girls were still dressed in their pajamas, robes thrown haphazardly on over. Ida had curly blonde hair while Alannis’s hair was black and straight. There were as different from each other as night was different from day, but they were best friends. Ginny had known them for five years, and she realized that this would be the moment where she would learn if she truly knew them at all.

“I’m not sure what you are talking about,” she said quietly.

“The flyers. We know that you were in Dumbledore’s Army two years ago. You were sneaking around with that group all the time.”

Ginny sighed. “I may have been a part of it…”

There was another awkward moment where Alannis and Ida looked at each other, as though preparing themselves for something unpleasant. Ginny wanted to yell at them to get it over with; she was sure that they were going to demand that she leave them alone forever or perhaps kick her out of the dormitory. Instead, Alannis lowered her voice and said: “Be careful, Ginny. We’re worried about you.”

“Oh,” said Ginny. “Thank you.”

“It’s just...you’re in really deep, and we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Not your fault,” Ida quickly amended when Ginny opened her mouth to argue the point. “None of it is your fault. We just don’t want something bad to happen to you.”

Alannis looked imploringly at Ginny. “You’ll come to us if you need help, right?”

Ginny glanced at the two. She had never once considered the girls to be her confidants, but then again, she had never really been very open with them. Not after their disastrous first year together. Plus, her relationship with Alannis was not without its problems, because the other girl used to tease her back when they were twelve and thirteen. 

“Are you asking to join Dumbledore’s Army?” Ginny said cautiously. 

“Maybe,” Ida replied. She was twisting the end of her robes nervously. “I do have some questions, though. Are there any prefects in the group? Are you still teaching defensive spells? Do you have a safe space to hide?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

“Who else is in it?” Alannis asked. 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I can’t tell you that...not until you join.”

“Oh,” she responded. “Right.”

“You should take some time to think about it. The sign-up sheet is cursed, so I can’t tell you more until you’re a member,” said Ginny, grabbing her school bag up off the ground. She was planning on spending the entire day with Neville and didn’t want to come back for her stuff. With a second thought, she also grabbed the bag of sweets that Fred and George had given to her prior to the start of term. “Dumbledore’s Army has three objectives this year: we are going to protect the younger students, undermine Snape and the Carrows, and prepare for the fight against You-Know-Who. If that’s what you want to do, then we can talk some more.”

Alannis nodded thoughtfully, and Ginny took that as her cue to leave. She stepped out onto the stairwell and thought it was a good sign that the girls didn’t immediately start whispering the moment the door shut behind her. Ginny took a deep breath, hoped that she hadn’t just made a huge mistake, and then continued on to the boys’ dormitory. 

She knocked on the door, and Neville let her in. The sound of the shower running told her that Seamus was in the bathroom. Lavender and Parvati were huddled on his bed, looking suspicious, but the minute they realized it was only Ginny, they pulled out the copy of the Quibbler and resumed reading. Ginny dropped her bag on the floor and tried to peer over their shoulder.

“What’s it say?”

Parvati looked up at Ginny, her eyes shining. “Luna’s dad got an interview with this lady named Mary Cattermole. She’s a Muggleborn, and she was summoned in front of the Wizengamot. They took away her wand and threatened her with Dementors. Harry apparently rescued her, but he was in disguise — Oh Ginny, I think they are sending the Muggleborns to Azkaban!” 

Ginny dropped down on the bed beside her, feeling as though she had just aged a hundred years. Parvati burst into noisy tears, and she turned to bury her face against Lavender’s shoulder. The other girl could only pat her on the shoulder, her eyes still glued to the magazine. Ginny looked up at Neville; he was pacing once again.

“I’m not surprised,” she told him.

“I’m not surprised either.” 

“Neville, my roommates just asked to join.”

He looked at her seriously. “Would you believe that right after you went upstairs, one of the boys in your year asked me the same exact thing? I think his name was Jun.”

“Yeah, it’s Jun,” Ginny said, drawing her knees up to her chest. “He’s nice. Colin liked him well enough, and he’s a good judge of character.”

“Are we going to let them in?”

“Maybe we should let the group decide?”

The shower turned off in the bathroom, and Seamus stepped out moments later, fully dressed. He ran a towel over his still-damp hair, frowning uncomfortably at the sight of Parvati still crying over the copy of the magazine. “I’m starving. Is Snape seriously going to send us to our rooms with no supper?”

“Here,” said Ginny, tossing him her bag of sweets.

“Excellent! Where’d you get these?”

“Fred and George gave them to me.”

Seamus immediately dropped the bag, looking wary. “I’m not touching anything from your brothers. I’m not stupid.”

“But it was given to me,” Ginny said, smiling sweetly. “They wouldn’t dare hurt me.”

“Well, okay.” 

Ginny watched as he dug through the bag and pulled out what he must have thought was an ordinary package of biscuits. Using his teeth to tear open the wrapper, he pulled out a custard cream and bit into it. Instantly, Seamus turned into human-sized canary. Ginny laughed along with the others. Even Parvati managed a small smile through her tears. 

“If you truly knew my brothers, you know they would never pass up an opportunity to play a joke on me,” Ginny said as Seamus molted, feathers dropping all over the floor of the dormitory. “But the joke’s on you this time.”

“Har har,” Seamus replied, but he continued to dig through the bag of candy anyway. 

They spent the rest of the morning in companionable silence, passing around the magazine until each of them had a chance to read it. When it was Ginny’s turn, she sat down on Harry’s bed and quickly flipped through it in search of her brother’s name. He was not mentioned anywhere, and neither was Hermione. It did mention that Harry had been disguised during his quest into the Ministry of Magic, so she could only assume that Ron and Hermione must’ve been there in disguise as well. Mr. Lovegood’s magazine was divided into three sections: the first part talked about Harry’s innocence, the second part discussed what happened at the ministry, and the third part talked about what was currently happening to the Muggleborns. Parvati had been right; it sounded horrible. Ginny mentally ran through a checklist of all the Muggleborns she knew: Hermione, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Dean Thomas, Katie Anderson, Justin Finch-Fletchley...not to mention all the other students she didn’t know on a first name basis. The Quibbler said that Muggleborns were being sent to Azkaban for ‘stealing’ magic. Mr. Lovegood did not know anything about their living conditions (he offered money for more information) but he could only speculate that it was not good.

Unlike Parvati, Ginny didn’t feel like crying. In fact, she felt sick. The sweets were not helping.

When she was finished with the magazine, Ginny passed it on to Neville. She laid back and let her head rest upon Harry’s pillow. Staring up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, wearing his old sweater, meant very little to her right now. She had never felt so far away from him. Harry didn’t need her. He hadn’t asked for her help. Muggleborns were being sent to Azkaban, and she was at school.

Inaction made her skin crawl, so she sat up and pulled out her quill, inkwell, and a spare piece of parchment.

“Quick, name all the spells we covered in the D.A.,” she said.

“Expelliarmus,” Neville said automatically.

“Stupefy,” Lavender added.

“Flipendo,” said Parvati.

Ginny quickly scribbled those done. “We also did Reducto and Confringo. Keep going! What else did we learn?”

“Don’t look at me,” Seamus said defensively. “I was a git for almost the entirety of our fifth year, remember? I didn’t join until you were covering the Patronus Charm.”

She ignored him and instead looked pointedly at the other three. 

“Uhh, Impedimenta? Protego? Depulso?”

“What’s the difference between Depulso and Expulso again?”

“Damned if I can remember.”

They continued to shout the names of spells they had covered, and then, for good measure, they came up with a few more that would be useful in a duel. After a while, they had a decent sized list to introduce to the D.A. Ginny was just about to reach for her old Defense textbook when there was a knock on the door. 

Neville froze. He shot the others a terrified look, and then crammed the Quibbler under his mattress. “Come in,” he said tentatively.

The door opened to reveal none other than Professor McGonagall. Ginny breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It was strange to see the Head of their House striding into a room that was normally off limits to teachers, and her mouth was pressed into a thin, disapproving line when she inspected the state of the place. Seamus, who had a pile of dirty laundry on the floor by his bed, surreptitiously pushed everything out of sight. 

“Professor McGonagall,” said Parvati.

“I just made an announcement to the entire House when I realized that all of my seventh years were mysteriously absent,” she said, and then added as an afterthought: “Along with Miss Weasley, of course.”

“I’m always the odd-one out,” Ginny said, shrugging.

Neville, at least, had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, Professor. We just wanted to get away from everyone else.”

“Yes, so you could plot and come up with other stupid plans,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice as cold as ice. She turned around and closed the door behind her. “What you did this morning was extremely foolish. You are lucky that Professor Dumbledore did not trust Snape enough to let him know who was in your little study group.”

“It’s not a study group,” said Ginny hotly.

“You are children.”

Ginny felt her temper rise to a boil once more. She stood up to face Professor McGonagall. “I don’t mean to be rude — “

“ — but something tells me that you are going to be rude anyway, Miss Weasley.”

“Yes, because you no longer get to chastise us for being unsafe. This is war. Adults are supposed to protect children during a war, but when they fail to do their job, the children don’t have any other choice but to step up and protect themselves.”

Ginny knew immediately that she had overstepped some kind of barrier. Neville’s eyes had gone wide with shock, and he was looking back and forth between the two of them with something akin to fear. Seamus refused to even look at Ginny. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall’s face had gone very pale. 

“Miss Weasley,” she started, her voice suddenly low. “You are the second student to say something like that to me.”

“Who was the first?” Ginny asked.

“A young girl by the name of Lily Evans.”

Ginny knew who that was, and so did Neville, but the other three merely blinked in confusion. Professor McGonagall took a moment to regain her composure. Her face was still nearly white in contrast to her dark green robes. When she spoke, she addressed everyone else in the room in a short, austere tone of voice; “Professor Snape wants me to inform you that the Ministry will be enacting the Educational Decrees put in place two years ago when Professor Umbridge was the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Information will be posted to the black boards. You are now allowed to leave the dormitory, but the curfew will be at six o’clock tonight and tomorrow as punishment.”

Professor McGonagall made to leave, but then she paused with her hand on the doorknob. Turning back around, she addressed Neville only: “I would add Episkey, Ferula, and Vulnera Sanentur to that list. You should also learn how to communicate with Patronuses. Come see me if you have any questions.”

Then she left, closing the door behind her with a little more force than was necessary. They could hear her buckled boots on the stone steps outside the door. When she was safely out of earshot, Seamus turned to Ginny and gave a low whistle.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so angry before.”

“Shut up,” Ginny said, and she threw herself back down on Harry’s bed and turned away from them. Her face was burning with shame. She knew that Professor McGonagall hadn’t been angry; she’d been _hurt_. 

“Who’s this Lily person?” Lavender asked curiously.

Ginny could hear Neville pulling the Quibbler out from under his mattress. He ruffled through the pages and passed it over to Lavender once again. “That’s Lily Evans. She was in the Order of the Phoenix with Professor McGonagall the first time around.”

The Quibbler had included several old pictures of Harry for the article, and Ginny knew that Neville was showing them a particular one on the second page. It was of Harry when he was only a couple months old. It was before he had glasses or even a scar on his forehead. In the picture, he was laughing and smiling like any other baby tucked safely in his mother’s arms.


	8. Educational Decrees

### CHAPTER EIGHT: Educational Decrees

In the last letter that Ginny had written to her parents, she mentioned a specific day. It was not a very strong secret code, but her father had insisted on simplicity. So, during the early hours of Sunday morning, Ginny dragged herself out of bed and went to the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door and sat down on the ground, trying not to fall back asleep. It was sometime before her father’s message arrived. A patronus in the form of a weasel soared through the open window, landing in the middle of the bathroom floor. It looked up at her affectionately, blinking large eyes. When it spoke, it was in the voice of her father.

“Hello Gin-Gin,” he started. “Please do not respond to this message. We are still being watched. Your mother and I are fine, but the house is lonely and we miss you. Bill and Fleur are over almost every evening for dinner, but they always go straight back to work after. Your mother is worried that they’re working too hard. We did hear some good news, though: it looks like Charlie has decided to move back to England. He kept it a secret from us that he had interviewed with the Dragon Reserve in Snowdonia. It will be good to have him closer to home again.

We’ve had no word from the others. I was at work the day of the incident, but I didn’t know that anything had happened until afterward. At least one member of the Order had contact with them prior to the incident, but they are now on the run and nobody has heard from them since. We believe that they are camping in a tent, but we cannot be sure. I worry that they might not have enough to eat. It will get cold soon. Your mother...she doesn’t say much out loud, but her nightmares have gotten worse. 

Others have notified us that the situation at Hogwarts is not ideal. I’m sorry for everything that is happening right now, Ginny. I wish I could offer some explanation for this madness. The magazine that you probably read yesterday is about as close to the truth as possible. I’m giving you permission to be sad, angry, and scared...because I know one of those emotions will probably save your life if things get rough. I love you, and I want you to stay as safe as possible. Let us know if you need help. You can talk to our friends. I know that they are looking out for you. 

We’ll write again soon. I promise.”

The weasel took a step forward, as though trying to nudge Ginny with the top of its head. Then it dissolved away completely, leaving behind a room that was darker now that its silvery light had gone. Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and cradled her head in her hands. In the safety of the bathroom, in the middle of the night, she finally let herself cry. 

Only she was ashamed; because the last time she had cried alone in a bathroom, it had been under very different circumstances.

o - o - o - o - o - o - o

“I just can’t do it!” Neville said, dropping his wand on the ground.

It was late in the afternoon, just before dinner. Ginny and Neville were in the Room of Requirement, poised on opposite ends of a dueling space. Luna was there as well, but she was off in a corner by the bookshelves. She hadn’t looked up at Neville’s declaration of acquiescence, but she paused to listen in on their conversation. Her finger hovered over an entry in the enormous encyclopedia that sat open on her lap.

“Neville” Ginny said through gritted teeth; “if you say that one more time, I’m going to hex you into next week.”

“What’s the use? I’m hopeless. My happy thoughts are just not good enough!”

Luna finally stood up, heaving aside the book in her lap with some effort. “Neville, happy thoughts are only part of it. You also have to have conviction; you have _believe_ that you can produce a Patronus. Look — _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

With a wave of her wand, she produced a silvery hare that hopped around the room. It was a skinny thing, tough like a jackrabbit, with large ears that twitched when it paused to measure the room. It was like looking at the essence of Luna; something that was so uniquely her it might as well have been dwelling deep behind her eyes the entire time. Neville could not disguise the jealousy on his face.

“So you’re saying that I don’t believe in myself,” he asked.

“Ding ding ding!” Ginny responded sarcastically. “We have a winner! Ladies and gentlemen, Neville Longbottom has just reached a conclusion that all of us have known for a very long time!”

“Don’t be cruel,” Luna chastised her.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I don’t like self-pity.”

“Harry said that he wasn’t even able to produce a Patronus until he knew that would succeed,” continued Luna, speaking over her. “Neville, _you_ are still expecting to fail, so it’s created a mental barrier. Even if you came up with the happiest of memories, you would still struggle. It requires conviction AND happy thoughts.”

“So I’m doomed?” Neville asked, frowning.

“Until you change your attitude, yes.”

Neville picked up his wand, and then threw himself down into one of the purple cushions. He knotted his fingers into his blond hair, refusing to look at either of them. Ginny glanced over at her own patronus, which had been standing off to the side. It was a beautiful, light colored mare, as big as any horse she had ever seen in real life. It pawed the ground and tossed its head defiantly. Ginny let it dissolve into nothing, but not before it reared up one last time. She sat down next to Neville, still fighting the urge to argue. 

“I just wish you believed in yourself as much as we do,” she said. “It’s nice to know you don’t trust our judgement.”

“How am I supposed to be teach the D.A. something that I can’t even do?” he grumbled, still staring at his knees.

Ginny suppressed a sigh. “You’re better at the teaching than I am. Just pretend it’s all stuff to do with Herbology. You’re _really_ good at that. And then I’ll just yell at everyone who falls behind. They’ll be so angry at me, they won’t even notice that you can’t do one.”

“I guess,” he said reluctantly.

“Anyway,” Ginny continued. “Luna, have you had any luck with the coins?”

Luna shook her head. “Terry striped down his own D.A. coin, and he thinks he figured out exactly how Hermione used the Protean Charm, but without the master coin, I don’t think we’ll be able to do anything. I think we’re just going to have to make our own. I was looking up other uses of the Protean Charm, but I haven’t found anything that would meet our specific need.”

“That’s rotten luck,” Ginny said. She had taken her own D.A. coin out of her pocket, but it had not changed since Harry’s call to arms last June. She twirled it around her fingers, wishing that it would give her some sort of inspiration. “I should’ve asked for Harry’s coin back when I had the chance. He might have left it at my house, but I don’t have any way of looking right now.”

“If we were to make our own, could we use Sickles this time?” Neville asked. 

“I don’t see why not,” Luna replied, shrugging.

“And let’s make it so that anybody can change the numbers.”

Ginny looked seriously at Neville. “Are you sure? Do we want to give them that much responsibility?”

“Yes. We’re a team, and we should share the burden. Also, what if something happens to us, and they are left in the same predicament?”

“You’re the boss, boss.”

The conversation died, and it was quiet for a moment. The Room of Requirement had a way of making it seem as though they were the only people who had ever existed. Nothing else mattered; it was like they were in a universe all to themselves. Even though Ginny knew that the rest of the castle, and all the threats it contained, existed right outside those doors, she could pretend for just one moment that she was safe enough to let her guard down. She could tell that the others felt it too.

“Are you ever mad at him?” Neville asked after a moment.

“Mad at who?” said Ginny.

“Harry.”

“Oh,” she replied. “Yeah.”

Neville untangled his hands from his hair. He didn’t bother to press it flat again, but let it stick up in wild directions. “When?”

“Like all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” said Ginny. “Like right now, I’m mad at him about this stupid coin. That’s just the beginning of it, though. I’m also mad that he didn’t give us the Marauder’s Map. Or even a way to communicate with him. I’m mad that he didn’t trust us. I’m mad that he didn’t trust me. He has me doubting everything about my life.”

Luna frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Like I won’t amount to anything other than a damsel in distress.”

“Oh, Ginny, you’re not a damsel in distress.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty distressed,” she muttered.

“He really liked you,” said Luna gently. “You could see it in his face. He looked at you like you were the sun.”

Ginny felt herself blush. There was that voice still inside her, banging on the inside of her brain in its attempt to be heard. Sometimes, she was able to successfully shut it out, but it was always there:

_You are nothing, Ginevra. You are weak. You are a monster. Who could ever love you?_

“Yeah, well, most people don’t break up with the sun,” she replied loftily.

“Ginny…” Luna started.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I was just joking.”

Luna did not look satisfied with that answer, but that was not a conversation Ginny wanted to have right now. It was almost time for dinner. She stood up, brushed imaginary dirt off her trousers, and then offered a hand to Neville. He took it, and she pulled him to his feet. Luna, meanwhile, returned the encyclopedia to its proper shelf. Ginny and Neville waited patiently while she stuffed her notebook and quills back into her bag and hoisted it up on her shoulder.

“Wonder what floor it’s going to let us out onto today,” Ginny said.

Neville stuck his head out of the door first, then he withdrew it. “Fifth floor. Coast is clear.”

They made their way out into the hallway, but any attempt to appear casual instantly failed the moment they crossed the threshold. Neville tripped on his shoelaces, and Ginny almost fell over him. The only other people within sight were two young Ravenclaws on their way down to the Great Hall. With a few snickers, the boys hurried off, and Ginny took that as a sign that the hallway was otherwise clear.

“Have a nice trip, Longbottom, see you next fall,” she joked.

“I’d probably do a lot better if you didn’t step on the back of my shoes,” he replied. Hanging out with her for the past three years had at least made him immune to some of her teasing.

“Behave, you two,” Luna said. “Remember, Educational Decree Number Thirty-One forbids boys and girls from being within eight inches of each other.”

Ginny put her arm around Luna. “Doesn’t say anything about girls and girls, though, love. So we are perfectly fine to continue our little thing.”

“Ewww, Ginny, you’re so weird!”

Their laughter carried them down to ground floor, where they were momentarily surprised to see a group of students gathered around a notice board in front of the Great Hall. Ginny’s mood instantly plummeted; she knew that they were looking at the posted list of Educational Decrees, and such a large group evidently meant that Snape had added a new one.

When they drew closer to the notice board, Hannah Abbott detached herself from her fellow Hufflepuffs to join them. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Neville instinctively reach up to flatten his hair. 

“Hello, Hannah,” Luna said brightly. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing okay, I guess,” Hannah responded. “Have you guys seen the new Educational Decree?”

“No, we haven’t.”

Ginny pushed her way forward to a point where she could read the list. Sure enough, there was a brand new Educational Decree written at the bottom of the list in shining red ink:

**Students are forbidden to say the Dark Lord’s name.**

She turned around. Neville, who was taller than her and could see over the heads of the other students, was staring down at the new decree with a frown on his face. She could tell that they were both thinking the same exact thing. If Ginny was honest with herself, this bothered her infinitely more than the stupid rule about boys and girls needing to be eight inches apart from each other. 

“What are you thinking?” Neville asked her warily.

“Lots of things. None of them pleasant,” Ginny muttered.

Hannah looked back and forth between them. “Well, it’s not really a big deal, is it? Nobody says the name anyway.”

“It’s just a matter of principle. Tom Riddle likes to control what people think and say,” replied Ginny bitterly. 

“But I don’t think that’s the name they are talking about,” Neville said. “Besides, there’s only two people we knew who said the name…”

“He means Harry Potter and Dumbledore, you nosy parker,” Ginny growled to an eavesdropping Gryffindor fourth year. “Bet you also didn’t know that You-Know-Who’s birth name was Tom Riddle.”

The younger boy looked alarmed, and he quickly backed away from the group. Ginny, anger fueling her words, continued: “I don’t know how they will even be able to monitor this one. It’s not like anyone is going to say —”

“Ginny!” Neville warned.

“— V-Voldemort in front of the Carrows.”

There was a heartbeat of silence where nothing happened, and for that brief second, Ginny felt triumphant. She had never said the name out loud before. Of course, Harry had encouraged them all to say it, but she always found ways to avoid it. He would forever be Tom in her mind, anyway. Smooth, sly, charismatic Tom. Ginny knew him on a personal level that the others could only dream about in their worst nightmares. Voicing his forbidden name felt a little bit like she was fighting against him.

Then the illusion broke. Alecto Carrow came storming out from within the Great Hall. She looked sort of crazy. Her wine-colored hair was pulled back into a tight bun, but it was unkempt and damaged. Flyaway strands framed her face like a fuzzy halo. Her eyes instantly narrowed in on Ginny, who felt her mouth drop open in absolute shock.

“Miss Weasley, did you just say the Dark Lord’s name?”

“How the fuck did you know?” Ginny said.

“Detention, Miss Weasley,” she cackled. “Tonight, at seven. My office. Don’t be late.”

Professor Carrow stepped back into the Great Hall, leaving them to ponder in shocked silence. The other students carefully inched away as though Ginny had somehow managed to jinx the entire group. She glanced at her friends’ faces and found identical expressions of disbelief. 

“How?” she repeated.

“I don’t know,” Neville replied, visibly shaken. “Do you think they are listening to us?”

Ginny shook her head. “How could they listen to an entire castle?”

“Nargles!” Luna said, her eyes wide with fear.

“You really think so?” Ginny asked; she had already seen the impossible once today and she wasn’t about to dismiss any option.

“Until you know for certain, any explanation is a possibility!”

“Oh Ginny,” Hannah said. “You can’t possibly be in a room with her alone!”

“I’ll be fine,” Ginny said, trying to sound much braver than she actually felt.

They went into the Great Hall. Word of Ginny’s outburst must have already traveled its way through the students inside, because she suddenly found herself an object of attention. She saw a couple of girls whisper behind the hands, not even bothering to look away. Several students pointed at her. _Well, hopefully it will keep others from trying the same_ , Ginny thought bitterly. They took a seat at the back of the Gryffindor table, with Luna and Hannah covertly joining them. 

“We need to think of a plan to get Ginny out of the detention,” said Neville.

“Set off Garrotting Gas?” Luna offered.

“Unless you got some hidden somewhere, we don’t have time to make any.”

“Go to McGonagall?” said Hannah.

“Guys, I’m fine,” Ginny insisted. To prove her point, she dished an extra helping of meatloaf onto her plate. It splattered and looked thoroughly inedible. 

At exactly seven o’clock, Ginny stood outside of the office that was connected to the Muggle Studies classroom on the first floor. She would have been lying if she didn’t admit to being somewhat nervous, but she was putting on a brave face for the others. All three of them had insisted on staying in the hallway, to be near just in case something were to happen. Ginny gave them a tentative thumbs-up, and then knocked for Professor Carrow. 

It opened almost immediately.

“Miss Weasley,” said the Death Eater. “Come in.”

Ginny stepped over the threshold, and tried not to flinch when the door shut behind her. Professor Carrow’s office was decorated almost exactly like her classroom, with several pictures showing the brutality of Muggles. She also had an assortment of mismatched office supplies, a chipped inkwell, and a hideous rug with a geometric pattern. Overall, her style of decorating was sort of masculine and put-together, as though she cared very little for such trivial comforts. There were no photos...not even of her brother or the rest of her family. On the wall behind the desk, there was a framed newspaper article. Ginny couldn’t help but look at the title:

**New Study Conducted by the Department of Mysteries Reveals that Magic Can Only Be Passed Down Through Magical Families**

“You like it?” Professor Carrow asked, following Ginny’s line of sight.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Fascinating.”

“Miss Weasley, can I ask you why used the Dark Lord’s name earlier this evening?”

Ginny shrugged. “On a dare. I can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

Professor Carrow indicated for her to take a seat at a student’s desk on the opposite wall. Ginny tentatively sat down, perching at the edge in case she needed to make a quick getaway. She didn’t like the way the arm rest blocked the route between her and the door. Meanwhile, the older woman reached down for something in one of her desk drawers. She pulled out two items and set them both on the table in front of Ginny.

It was a book and a mouse in a small cage.

The dormouse was just like the one Amycus Carrow had murdered in front of them the week previously. Ginny watched the little guy obsessively clean his whiskers and tail as though it would bring him some sort of relief from the stress of confinement. The book was a textbook, but it was unlike any sort of textbook that Ginny had ever seen. It was very old and fading. It was bound in a dark leather that looked suspiciously unfamiliar. The pages were faded and sticking to each other. It appeared as though it were full of very dark magic.

“Do you know what I am going to ask you to do?” asked Professor Carrow.

Ginny shook her head.

The professor reached over and opened the textbook to a certain page, ignoring the ominous cracking of the book’s fragile spine. Ginny could see that half of it was written in Ancient Runes, and there was an English translation that used so many old spellings and characters that it was nearly illegible. The gist of it, however, was clear due to the horrible illustrations that took up most of the second page. It was describing the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. 

“You are a smart student, Miss Weasley,” said Professor Carrow. “I know Elias Jugson thinks you are something special, and I have heard rumors of your history. I would like you to teach yourself how to do the Cruciatus Curse. It will be several months before your classmates start learning the spell, but I believe that you are capable of such magic.”

“Absolutely not,” said Ginny. 

Professor Carrow ran a hand to smooth back the flyaway strands of her hair with little success. Ginny speculated that her natural hair color would have been close to the color of wet hay, much like her brother’s. “You don’t have a choice. For detention, you will either attempt the Cruciatus Curse, or you will read about it until you are ready.”

“Looks like I will be reading, then.”

For a moment, it looked as though Professor Carrow wanted to argue. She pressed her mouth into a tight line, and then settled on an evil smile. “Two hours then.”

“Oh good,” Ginny responded sarcastically. “I’m a slow reader.”

She pulled the delicate book closer to her and flipped back a few pages to the start of the chapter. The paper felt like spider’s silk beneath her fingers; it had obviously been around for centuries. Ginny was afraid that one wrong move might rip the book in half, and she didn’t think that Alecto Carrow would appreciate damage to her property. The library did contain a few books that were as old as this one, but Madam Pince usually kept them under lock and key. Professor Dumbledore certainly would not have allowed something as dark as this in the library, however.

Meanwhile, Professor Carrow sat down heavily at her desk and started grading essays. The mouse in its cage continued to clean its whiskers. Ginny watched it surreptitiously over the page in her textbook, wishing that she could do something more for it. She moved her hand up to rest beside the cage, and she glanced to make sure that Professor Carrow was not paying attention. Then she poked her finger through the bar. The little mouse sniffed her curiously, giving her finger a tentative nibble. There was something about his face that reminded her strongly of Arnold.

A loud sniff from the Death Eater made Ginny jump, and she withdrew her hand. She then proceeded to read through the first few pages of the chapter and found it difficult work. Her estimation that the book would be hard to get through was definitely proving to be true. In fact, Ginny had never read anything quite so difficult. Her mind wandered, and she had to read some pages several times over to gain any sort of meaning. After a while, she put her hand up next to the mouse cage once again. This time, when she stuck her finger through the bar, it did not try to bite her. Instead, it allowed her to scratch its neck. 

At the end of one hour, Professor Carrow looked up to find Ginny’s attention completely consumed by the mouse. It had fallen asleep against the bars of the cage, and she was scratching the little ridge of its spine while its sides rose and fell in sleep. There was a purposeful little cough, and Ginny quickly withdrew her hand again as though electrocuted. 

“It seems as though you are done with the chapter,” the Death Eater said forcefully.

Ginny shook her head. “No, not quite. This is very hard material to read. I’m going to need at least another hour to figure it out.”

Professor Carrow stood up. She walked around her desk and crossed the room to Ginny. “No, pull out your wand. We are going to try the Cruciatus Curse right now.”

Refusals and snarky rebuttals alike jumped to Ginny’s tongue, but before she had a chance to settle on an appropriate answer, there came a large bang from somewhere above. It sounded as though something large had cascaded to the ground. One second later, it was followed by an agonized yell. Professor Carrow looked startled and alarmed. She pulled out her own wand, but only stood there, pulling at the flyaway strands of her hair frantically.

“Go!” Ginny urged her. “Someone might be hurt!”

“Yes, of course,” murmured the Professor, and she wrenched open her door. 

Ginny almost jumped up to run after her, but then she remember the little mouse. The creature was awake and running back and forth within the cage. She used her wand to unlock the door on the top, and then she reached inside with both hands to cup the mouse. It struggled, but she held on and shoved it deep into her pocket. Then she ran out the door. 

She made it halfway down the hallway before she crashed right into someone. Hannah caught her before she hit the ground, her fingernails nearly cutting into her skin as she scrambled to get a grip on her arms. Ginny steadied herself. Hannah, thankfully, was smiling.

“Oh good, Ginny, you’re out!” she said, giggling. “Quick, come with me!” 

“Where are we going? What’s going on?”

Hannah led her down the stairs. “We’re busting you out!”

“I see that, but what did you do?” Ginny demanded.

They quickly passed the open doors of the Great Hall where a few students were still lounging around before curfew, oblivious to the commotion two floors above. Hannah continued to lead her onward, right down to the dungeons. “Neville tricked Crabbe and Goyle into following him upstairs, while Luna charmed three different suits of armor. They were ambushed before they even got a chance to see who they were after. It was brilliant.”

Ginny grinned. “What’s happening to them?”

“Oh don’t worry. It’s only just a hug, but I think it’s a rather invasive hug if you know what I mean. Luna picked the suits with the biggest codpieces.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Ginny breathed in awe.

“Anyway,” Hannah continued; “I’m taking you to the kitchens to hide until it’s safe to go back to our dormitories. Have you ever been to the kitchens?”

“Oh, loads of times with Fred and George.”

The two girls ran down the stone corridor, intermittently illuminated by patches of flickering candlelight. They came to a large portrait of a fruit basket on the wall. Hannah reached up to tickle the pear, and it turned into a door handle. She quickly pulled it open so Ginny could slip inside. Hannah joined her, pulling the door firmly shut behind them. 

Ginny doubled over, pausing to catch her breath. She was able to stop and take a long look at the kitchens. It was late in the evening, so the cooking utensils had already been neatly cleaned and packed away. The fire in the large stone hearth at the front of the hall was now only burning cinders at this point. There were a few elves hanging around; two were playing cards while half a dozen others were chatting over steaming mugs of hot chocolate. At the sight of the newcomers, two House Elves immediately stepped forward to greet them, hurriedly bringing trays of biscuits, cuts of meat and cheese on crackers, and leftover breakfast muffins. 

“Missus are hungry, are they not?” piped a small female, expertly balancing the tray while performing a low bow. “Take a treat of three!”

“Thank you! You’re very kind!” Ginny said, helping herself to a chocolate biscuit. She was then struck with sudden inspiration. “Hey, do any of you know if Dobby still works here?”

“Dobby?” asked one of the card players, who was standing only out of courtesy. “He’s still here. Would Miss like me to fetch him?”

“Yes, please. I would appreciate it!”

This House Elf also bowed low to the ground, letting his pencil-like nose brush the stone floor beneath them. Then he hurried out of a small side door that Ginny had never noticed before. She could only suppose that it led to where the House Elves lived when they were not working. She turned back to Hannah, who was now selecting her own treat from the tray of goodies. 

“Who’s Dobby?” Hannah asked.

“Friend of Harry’s, actually. It’s a long story.”

Hannah raised her eyebrows. “When is it not?”

They did not have to wait long. The House Elf with the pencil-like nose returned, and he was closely followed by a much younger elf with bat-like ears and bright green eyes. This one also appeared to be wearing a pair of kid’s trousers (with blue polka dots, naturally) and a maroon sweater. On his head he had crammed three pairs of knitted caps, and he stomped around in red shoes that were slightly too large for him. He stood out from the other elves like a sore pink thumb, and they naturally gave him a wide berth. Of course, Ginny had never met Dobby personally, but she had heard enough stories about him from Harry to be excited. 

“Hello Dobby, do you know who I am?” she asked.

Dobby looked at her first in confusion, and then he seemed to recognize her orange hair and freckles. He jumped up and down, and spoke in a shrill voice: “You’re the littlest Wheezy! Dobby has always wanted to meet the littlest Wheezy!”

“I’ve always wanted to meet you too! You can call me Ginny!” she said, offering her hand. Dobby shook it with great enthusiasm. 

“Dobby is very pleased to speak to Ginny. The teachers say great things about her, and Dobby has always wanted to meet her! She is related to Wheezy, and he is so kind and thoughtful! He gave Dobby this sweater!”

“Did he really?” said Ginny in surprise. “I thought it looked familiar. Merlin, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone describe my brother as kind and thoughtful.”

“Oh but he is!” Dobby squeaked.

Ginny laughed. Then, remembering her manners, she turned to introduce her companion. Hannah was watching Dobby with an expression of amusement on her face. “Dobby, this is my friend Hannah Abbott. She’s very nice, too, and we’re friends of Harry.”

“Dobby thinks very highly of anyone who is friends of Harry Potter!” he said, shaking Hannah’s hand with the same level of enthusiasm.

Hannah leaned down next to Dobby and lowered her voice. “Hello, Dobby. I actually have a secret for you, but you must not tell any of the professors. Harry Potter is actually in love with Ginny. They dated last year, but he had to break up with her to protect her.”

Ginny’s face flushed with color. She wanted to protest, but Dobby turned his giant green eyes on her with an expression that was nothing short of total admiration. Her words died on her tongue and she felt uncharacteristically shy in front of Dobby’s innocent enthusiasm.

“Harry Potter loves the littlest Wheezy?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” Hannah replied. “But you mustn’t tell anyone. We don’t want her to get hurt!”

“Dobby promises not to tell anyone!” he said solemnly. “Dobby will do whatever he can to help protect the littlest Wheezy, because he does not want anything bad to happen to his friend Harry, who cares very much for all of his friends.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Dobby,” Ginny said.

“Dobby also wishes that he could go help his friend Harry Potter, but he does not know where to even start looking.”

Ginny sighed, exchanging a glance with Hannah. “That’s okay, Dobby. Nobody has heard from Harry in over a month.”

“But Ginny,” said Dobby, his large eyes round and imploring. “That’s not true! Dobby knows someone who saw Harry Potter just last week. Dobby knows someone who also wants to help Harry Potter in his quest against evil!”


	9. A Sickle for a Galleon

### CHAPTER NINE: A Sickle for a Galleon

The last time Ginny had seen Kreacher the House Elf, it had been the Christmas her father had nearly died. So much had happened since then, most of it unpleasant, and she couldn’t help but feel a stab of revulsion as she stared down at the frail, little body. This was the monster that was responsible for Sirius’s death, and he deserved every little bit of dislike she could muster. She imagined that his spine was twisted not with age, but with spite and contempt. His face held a permanent scowl because it was the only expression it knew how to make. Ginny, however, could not deny the fact that he looked much better than he had two years ago. His eyes were clear and observant, and his skin was free of dirt. He was also dressed in clean linens. A large, egg-shaped locket lay against his bare chest.

They were seated across from each other at one of the tables; Ginny and Hannah on one side opposite the two House Elves.

“Please, Kreacher?” Dobby begged, and his large ears trembled with emotion. “Tell Miss Wheezy about Harry Potter. You were gone for almost a month!”

Kreacher pointed his nose in the air and looked away.

“It’s really good to see you, Kreacher,” Ginny started awkwardly. “You look...well.”

She didn’t quite know what to say, and she was still too overwhelmed with shock and revulsion to sound eloquent. So the trio had been hiding in Grimmauld Place all along? Ginny would have thought that seemed obvious. Had no one in the Order thought to check that particular hiding spot?

Kreacher pretended not to hear.

“That’s a nice locket you’re wearing,” Hannah said politely.

His long fingers reached up to touch the gaudy trinket, almost in reverence. Then he murmured in his bullfrog voice; “Master Harry gave it to Kreacher.”

“He did?” Ginny asked, blinking in surprise. 

“Why?” asked Hannah.

“Master Harry is kind and fair. Master Harry wants to make the world a safe place. He’s a better wizard than most, and Kreacher will not reveal his secrets to nosy witches!”

Two bony arms crossed over his chest, hiding the locket from view. He then furrowed his wrinkled brow and turned halfway around in his seat. Ginny exchanged a frustrated glance with Hannah. There were so many things she didn’t understand. Harry was not the sort of person to give jewelry as a present, nor did Kreacher appear to be the type to want anything like that for his own...unless, of course, it was connected to the Black family. She took a deep breath; Ginny couldn’t afford to lose her temper right now. She needed Kreacher on her side. “Look, Kreacher,” she said. “I understand that you cannot tell me any of Harry’s secrets, and I respect that you are keeping them. I just want to know if my brother is okay. My brother is Ron Weasley. He should have been with Harry.”

“That’s all you want to know?” Kreacher asked suspiciously.

Ginny felt her heart pang miserably. No one had ever warned her that such a simple choice could be so difficult. She did not like having to choose between Harry’s secrets and the welfare of her brother. “Yes,” she said. “If I can only ask you one question, that is the only thing I want to know.”

“Kreacher is not obligated to keep Weasley’s secrets,” he replied loftily, picking at a spot underneath his fingernails. “He ate three meals a day under Kreacher’s care. He spent a lot of time talking alone with the Granger girl. Kreacher heard him say that he was worried about you and the rest of your family several times a day. He did not sleep well, but he appeared otherwise in good health.”

Some of the pressure that had been constricting Ginny’s heart eased a little at his words. She breathed a sigh of relief, and Hannah reached over to squeeze her tense shoulders.

“Can Kreacher tell us anything more about where Harry Potter went after he left Grimmauld Place?” Dobby asked desperately. “Dobby only wants to help his friend, and Miss Wheezy wants to help too. She is Harry Potter’s girlfriend.”

“Master Harry never mentioned a girlfriend,” said Kreacher savagely.

There was an awkward pause.

“That’s because we broke up,” Ginny snapped. Kreacher’s words annoyed her. “You are not allowed to tell anyone that we used to date. It could hurt Harry.”

Before either of the House Elves had a chance to respond, the door to the kitchens swung open on giant hinges. Ginny rose halfway from her seat; the fact that she had just escaped detention with Alecto Carrow had not been driven completely out of her mind. Luckily, however, it was only Luna and Neville. She waved them over almost immediately. 

“Isn’t that…?” Neville started, looking at Dobby in surprise.

“Neville,” Ginny said, pulling him forward. “I want to introduce you to Dobby. He was the House Elf that saved us from Umbridge two years go. He’s a good friend of Harry’s. And Dobby, this is Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.”

Dobby jumped down from his seat and took a bow so low his nose nearly brushed the stone floor. “Dobby is very pleased to meet you!”

“And that’s Kreacher,” Ginny added anticlimactically. Kreacher did not stand up or bow. “He used to serve the Black family until Harry’s godfather passed away.”

“Kreacher prefers his family to be called _the noble and most ancient house of Black_ ,” growled the older Elf.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “But you don’t serve them anymore. You serve the noble and most ancient house of Potter now.”

Kreacher opened his mouth to argue the sentiment but then snapped it shut almost immediately, looking puzzled. Perhaps he had not considered the involuntary change in allegiance before. When he did not offer any other words, Ginny turned back to Neville and Luna. They were pink-faced and short of breath, but otherwise exhilarated. Neville gave her a beaming grin as he pushed back his sweaty fringe.

“All clear,” he said.

“I think I might be a bad influence on you, Longbottom,” she said, grinning. “But you’ll have to give me the story another time. It’s almost curfew.”

He checked his watch. “Yikes, we better get going.”

“Wait,” said Luna. “I’ve got a really good idea. Can we do a group huddle?”

“Since when did we become a group that did huddles? I didn’t agree to that,” Ginny replied sarcastically.

Luna ignored her. She pulled the three of them off to the side, out of earshot from the House Elves seated at the scrubbed wooden table. Her blue eyes were bright with excitement. “Ginny, you said that Dobby was a friend of Harry’s, right? Is he trustworthy?”

“I suppose,” Ginny answered, shrugging. “I mean, Harry said that Dobby tries a little too hard sometimes, but his heart is still in the right place. He had Dobby following Malfoy all last year, and because Harry’s instincts are weirdly accurate, he was actually able to provide us with some solid evidence. Why do you ask?”

“We should invite him to the D.A.”

There was another moment of silence, then:

“Luna, that’s brilliant,” Hannah said.

Luna nodded solemnly. “I have my moments. Neville, would you like to do the honors?”

“Do we make him a full member?” Neville asked, taken aback. “Do we give him a coin?”

“We don’t have those yet,” Hannah reminded him. “But I think we should definitely give him an offer...AND give him a coin when we have those. House Elves are really smart, and they pick up on a lot of gossip. Think of all the help he could give us! Plus, Dobby doesn’t even belong to Hogwarts, so it’ll be like having a rogue spy.”

“Only if he wants to be the rogue spy,” Luna added.

“Of course,” Hannah amended.

They turned back around. The two House Elves watched them curiously, a picture of two figures in juxtaposition of each other. Kreacher was old and wrinkled. His heavy brow was knitted over two large eyes that were only just starting to turn gray with cataracts. Dobby, on the other hand, could not have been more than a few years into adulthood. He looked so desperate to be included that he was leaning halfway onto the table. The multiple hats on his head trembled precariously. 

“Dobby, can we ask you a question?” Neville said.

Before he had a chance to respond, Ginny interrupted: “Kreacher, actually, it was really good to see you, and I’m glad that you are looking well. Thank you for letting me know about my brother.”

Kreacher grunted in response, noticing the obvious dismissal. Ginny watched him stand up and shuffle to the doors on the other end of the Kitchens. She would never be able to forget that he had betrayed Harry and Sirius to the Malfoys, even if Harry had apparently forgiven him, and she was definitely not going to trust the elf with their biggest secret. Something of Ginny’s dislike must have shown on her face, because the other three were watching her wearily. She waited until Kreacher was finally out of earshot before giving Neville the signal that it was okay to continue. 

“Erm, yes, Dobby,” he said, clearing his throat. “We were wondering if you wanted to help us with something?”

Dobby’s eyes grew to the size of tea saucers. “Dobby would be honored to help the kind students in any way he can!”

“It’s completely up to you,” said Luna gently. “Do you know anything about Dumbledore’s Army?”

“Oh yes,” Dobby replied, nodding vigorously. “Dumbledore’s Army is the group that Harry Potter created during his fifth year at Hogwarts. Dobby helped him find the Room of Requirement and kept the students safe from the terrible Professor Umbridge.”

“You’ve definitely proven yourself as a true member. Do you want to join?”

Whatever they had been expecting, it was certainly not the noisy tears that followed Neville’s request. The House Elf sank to his knees, clutching at the neckline of his maroon sweater with both of his tiny fists. Ginny was horrified that they had somehow offended him, but a second later she realized that his tears were actually tears of _joy_. Dobby was overcome with happiness. The other House Elves in the room did not even acknowledge that this was something out of the ordinary for the peculiar creature. Neville gave her a dumbstruck look as they paused to wait for the minute it took for Dobby to compose himself. 

“Yes,” he hiccupped. “Dobby would be honored to join Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Excellent,” said Neville. He tugged on Ginny’s sleeve and gestured to the door; it was time to go.

“Okay,” Luna said. “We’re glad to have you on the team, sir. We’ll let you know when we have another meeting! It will be very soon. See you then!” 

Dobby continued to mop at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, beaming from ear to ear. He waved energetically as they backed out the door and into the hallway. In the second before the portrait closed shut behind them, Dobby gave a joyful little hop and skipped out of view. 

“You know,” said Ginny, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that happy before.”

It wasn’t until she and Neville returned to the Common Room, after escorting Hannah and Luna back to their respective dormitories, that Ginny remembered the mouse in her pocket. She reached down and found it curled asleep at the very bottom, next to the little balls of lint and string. Gently, she scooped the animal out and let it sit on the palm of her hand. Two small black eyes blinked up at her in curiosity, and Ginny felt her heart melt at the sight. Yet, she knew that she was being unrealistic; Arnold was still waiting for her upstairs on her bedside table. 

She kicked an unused chair away from the empty chessboard and climbed up on top of it. Although it was now past curfew, quite a few Gryffindors were still socializing by the crackling fire. Ginny cleared her throat loudly, and they turned around.

“Does anyone want a pet mouse? He’s really sweet. He likes long walks on the beach and hanging out in pockets. Also, he’s been recently liberated from the Carrows, so he dislikes them too.”

There was long, drawn out silence. A couple of the friendlier students smiled and responded politely, but no one showed any interest. They all turned back to their previous conversations and half-hearted attempts at homework. Ginny almost stepped down from the chair; she felt a little bit foolish. However, just as the thought entered her mind, a small voice spoke up from the other side of the room. 

“I’ll take him.”

The voice belonged to a young boy sitting alone by the windows. Ginny jumped down from her chair and walked over, pausing to bid Neville goodnight as he left to go up the stairs to his own dormitory. The young boy looked completely unfamiliar to Ginny, so she could only assume that he was a first year. He had brown hair and gray eyes. The seat opposite him was open, so Ginny sat down.

“My name’s Ginny,” she said.

“Gerard,” replied the boy.

Ginny shook his hand, and then passed over the little mouse. Gerard cradled him in the center of his palm as though the creature were made of glass. The little mouse did not fidget, but he stared up at the new face with something like curiosity.

“Did you really rescue him?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah.”

The first year gently curled his fingers around him and then held the mouse close to his heart. “Thank you. I’m glad you saved him. I promise to take good care of him.”

“No, thank you,” Ginny said, and she felt an odd sense of accomplishment.

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

As surprising as it was, life at Hogwarts settled into a new routine. Ginny dragged herself to class every day like a good student, but she spent almost every available opportunity in the company of Neville and Luna. Occasionally, they were joined by Hannah, Ernie, Terry, Seamus, or any of the other D.A. members. Her mother would have classified their discussions as “plotting”, but Ginny thought that “surviving” was a more appropriate term. Every house had its own special role to play in the rebellion; the Ravenclaws were busy trying to duplicate the D.A. coins, the Hufflepuffs had organized a buddy system so no one would have to walk alone, and the Gryffindors were in charge of general mischief.

And there was no shortage of mischief to be had, even if they had to double their precautions.

During one of his free periods, Seamus had painstakingly removed every single screw in Amycus Carrow’s chair in the Great Hall. It then collapsed underneath him during the busiest part of dinner, resulting in quite a few shouts of uncontrolled laughter from the students. Even Professor McGonagall found the situation hilarious, or at least they assumed she did. It was hard to know for sure because she had chosen that exact moment to choke on a sip from her wine goblet and required several forceful pats on the back from Professor Sprout to regain her composure. 

Additionally, Lavender and Parvati had somehow managed to start a rumor that the reason Pansy Parkinson was now single was because she had contracted some terrible venereal disease. It was petty gossip, of course, but the resulting look of shame on Pansy’s face after being called to the Hospital Wing was worth every bit of shallow cattiness. Madam Pomfrey, it seemed, did not take such rumors lightly. 

The best prank, however, was orchestrated by Ginny. She convinced Peeves the Poltergeist that what Elias Jugson needed most in the world was to be followed around by someone playing a piccolo pilfered from the music room...for three days.

Unfortunately, however, It was quite a while before they were able to get the D.A. back together for another meeting. The Aurors kept changing up their patrol patterns, and Ginny had a sneaking suspicion that this was done intentionally. Neville struggled to schedule a meeting by word of mouth only, but they did manage to find an afternoon that was relatively clear of their enemies. Ginny woke up on that morning, a Friday, to find a cold rain beating at the windows in their dormitory. It was the first real sign that summer was ending, and it was something that Ginny actively dreaded. Summer was her favorite season.

At breakfast, she took a blueberry muffin and placed it on her plate. Then she rolled up a napkin and transfigured the object into something that vaguely resembled a candle. It was still rather flimsy in places, but she had no intention of actually lighting it and drawing unnecessary attention to herself. She stuck her transfigured candle in the center of a muffin and admired it with grim satisfaction. 

“Uh, Ginny, what are you doing?” Seamus asked.

“It’s Hermione’s birthday,” she said, placing the muffin in the center of the table. 

“Oh.”

They all stared at the tribute in silent reverence. Today was Hermione Granger’s eighteenth birthday, and it was a day they should have been able to celebrate with her in person. Ginny hoped that wherever her friend was hiding, she was at least able to sacrifice the fraction of energy that was required to stop and celebrate. If they were truly living on the run like her father presumed, then Ginny doubted that they would be able to get their hands on a cake...or even a proper birthday present. Outside, the rain continued to thrash against the windows of the Great Hall. Did they even have a warm place to stay?

The rest of the day passed normally, although the castle felt much gloomier with the wind howling through the narrow courtyards and great stone walls. Ginny got her marks back on a History of Magic quiz, and she was disappointed to find a rather unfortunate D positioned at the top of the page. Of course she would celebrate Hermione’s birthday with a failing grade. It was irony at its strongest. She crammed the offending piece of paper at the bottom of her bag. 

“How was your day?” Luna asked when Ginny met her in the Entrance Hall after the final bell.

“Gloomy. Boring. Uneventful.”

Luna gave her a coy smile. “At least we have our study group now.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” said Ginny.

They hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time until their legs burned from the effort. Luna slowed down first, and Ginny, out of courtesy, paused to let her catch her breath. They were not the first in the Room of Requirement; Neville had beaten them to it. He was standing off to the side, soaking wet, shivering, and dripping onto the stone floor. He had his wand out, and he was trying to dry his hair with his wand. 

“Professor Sprout let us out early,” he said unnecessarily, peeling off his robes and handing them over to Luna, who had offered to dry them. “The rain was coming in under the door to the greenhouses, and we were standing in two inches of mud after the first fifteen minutes. I figured Filch would have killed me if I tracked in that much mud, so I stood in the rain trying to get it off.”

Ginny tapped him on the shoulder with her wand and syphoned away as much of the water as she could. It ran in rivulets down his body to form a pool around his feet. He gave her grateful look, no longer shivering. 

“I keep thinking about how the three of them are probably out in this storm,” she said.

“Maybe they are in a different part of the country?” Neville replied hopefully. 

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, they are probably dry,” said Luna, handing Neville back a warm set of robes. Then she vanished the puddle at his feet. “You know Hermione would have thought to use an Impervious Charm. She’s a genius.”

“That wouldn’t keep out the chill, though, would it?”

Luna paused, halfway in the act of dropping her book bag down alongside one of the many purple cushions. Her long blonde hair swung partially in front of her face, but even Ginny could tell that she was pondering the question. “I don’t know, actually. I would have to do some research on that. Now that I think about it, the Impervious Charm doesn’t work for temperature.”

“Even the castle feels chilly today,” Ginny said. “And it probably has every protection ever invented. I bet it’s those damn dementors.”

Neither Luna nor Neville had a response for that, but Ginny did not pursue the conversation any further. She was distracted by the arrival of their fellow D.A. members. They came staggering through the door in groups of two or three, and no one was in particularly high spirits despite the fact that it was now officially the weekend. Someone laughed, but it was short and lacked enthusiasm. Although the Room of Requirement had blocked all sound of the rain outside, there was still a gloomy and pervasive mood that lingered. 

“What are we doing today, boss?” Seamus asked Neville.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Ginny and Luna both sat down to give Neville the appearance of authority. He was now the only person standing on their side of the room. Although his clothes were fully dry once more, he still looked rather unkempt and wrinkled. It also seemed as though he were consciously aware of that fact, and he kept running his hands over the front of his shirt to press the creases out of the fabric. Ginny watched the door eagerly, and when Hannah finally entered the room with Ernie MacMillan, she elbowed Luna in the ribs.

“Ow, Ginny!” Luna said, frowning at the inkblot she had just made in her notebook. “Look what you made me do!”

“Watch Neville,” Ginny whispered.

Neville had given up on his shirt; he crossed his arms in front of his chest to hide the excessive wrinkles, but he still greeted Hannah with an enormous smile on his face. There was something about the way he was standing that reminded Ginny of her brother’s desperate attempts to impress Hermione over the summer. Even the blush on Neville’s face looked eerily similar to Ron. Ginny, delighted that Neville was providing such excellent entertainment, turned back to find Luna fixing the inkblot with the tip of her wand.

“Did you even look?”

“Look at what?” Luna asked.

“Neville’s face when he smiled at Hannah?” 

“Oh yeah,” said Luna, with about as much interest as one commenting on the menu for dinner. “I think he likes her.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You suck at gossiping, my dear. Anyway, what are we supposed to do with this information?”

“What do you mean?”

“You mean you aren’t curious?”

“Am I supposed to be curious?”

“I cannot believe you exist sometimes,” Ginny replied in mock amazement.

When they were all seated on cushions, and talk had died down completely, Neville cleared his throat to begin. Before he had a chance to start, however, a loud crack of Apparition echoed in the room. They all looked around wildly for the source of the noise, but it was only Dobby the House Elf. He stood there sheepishly, twisting one of his many hats in his hands.

“Hello, Dobby,” said Neville.

“You...you said that Dobby could join Dumbledore’s Army?” he squeaked in his high voice.

Ginny saw several of her fellow members look back to Neville in surprise. He smiled. “Yes, I did. Everyone, I want to introduce you to Dobby. He’s going to join us.”

“You can sit here, Dobby,” Luna said, gesturing to the open seat on her left. “We were just getting started.”

Dobby’s face brightened considerably, and he hurried over as fast as his little legs could carry him. In the giant cushion, he looked somewhat like a child. He sat very patiently, his bat-like ears perked forward as though Neville Longbottom’s voice was the most important thing in the world. He seemed eager to prove to them that he was just as good a student, despite the fact that he had never gone to school.

“We’re all here now,” said Neville, trying to sound more confident than Ginny knew he felt. “I’m sorry that it has taken us so long to schedule another meeting, but I really appreciate that you all made the effort to be here. I think things have definitely taken a turn for the worse since we started school.”

“As we knew they would,” said Michael Corner briskly.

Neville nodded. “Yeah, it’s about what we expected. Still, it’s nothing we can’t handle…yet, at least. Does anybody have any announcements before we officially start with the agenda?”

“I do.”

Terry Boot stood up and jingled what appeared to be a large bag of coins. Neville’s mouth dropped open.

“Did you —?”

“Think fast!” said the Ravenclaw, and he tossed something into the air that was bright and silver.

Neville fumbled to catch it, but it bounced off his hand and into the group. Ginny, with the skill of someone who had been practicing Quidditch in secret almost her entire life, snatched it right out of the air. She opened up her hand to reveal a silver Sickle. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have mistaken it for an actual coin. It had the curious S-shaped marking on one side, and a profile of Merlin’s face on the other, just like any other Sickle in her money bag. She studied the serial number, which was nothing more than random jumble of letters and numbers at the present moment.

“You’re done with them?” Ginny asked hopefully.

She looked up to find a very satisfied smile on Terry Boot’s face, and he nodded eagerly. The bag of coins was already currently making its way around to the other members of the D.A., and everyone seemed to be just as equally impressed as Neville. Dobby burst into grateful tears when he was given his own coin, but he managed to hold himself together...although he did disgustingly blow his nose on the collar of his sweater, forcing Lavender to scoot back away from him by several inches. Luna did not seem to notice, however; she was too busy inspecting her new coin.

Neville held his up to the light to squint at the serial number. “How does it work?”

Terry walked over to him, holding his own coin out for a demonstration. “You just hold down on the number until it cycles through to the character you want. Try it!”

It took Neville a couple of attempts to get it right, but when he finished the last character and looked up at them expectantly, Ginny felt the coin grow warm against the skin of her hand. It didn’t burn, but it was still warm enough that it could be felt through several layers of clothing. The serial number, however, did not immediately change. She glanced over at Luna’s coin to make sure that there hadn’t been a mistake.

“You have to hold it between your thumb and your pointer finger,” said Terry. “Like this.”

They copied him, and suddenly the serial number changed. 

**19.9.97 at 4PM**

“Why doesn’t it just show up?” asked Parvati.

“Because we don’t want just anybody to be able to read it. Plus, now that you’ve held your coin like that, it will only work for your thumbprint. I gave them flesh memories. 

“You are a genius,” said Neville.

Terry looked appropriately satisfied with himself. “I know, I know...but all credit for the idea goes to Hermione. I just perfected it. She’s not the only smart one in our year.”

They spent a moment congratulating Terry, who, without a shadow of a doubt, completely deserved the recognition. Ginny, however, could not help but feel a stab of resentment. Hermione’s invention had been perfect, and it would have been perfect had they been able to find the master coin. It was just one other thing to add to her growing list of grievances against Harry. She turned her brand-new D.A. coin over and over in her hand, forcing herself to be thankful that they at least had a safe method of communication now.

“And anybody can send a message, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Terry. “Just like you guys wanted. And you can even check old messages by running your thumb over Merlin’s face.”

“This is just great,” Neville said, and he carefully pocketed his coin. “I think that takes care of the first item on our agenda, actually. We no longer have to worry about trying to schedule meetings through word of mouth alone.”

“Hear, hear!” Ernie exclaimed.

“Okay, now for the second item on our agenda: are we going to accept new members?”

There was a moment of silence, and Ginny couldn’t help but look over at Megan, who technically hadn’t been a part of the group the first time around. She was blushing and exchanging a sheepish look with Susan. Perhaps it was the sudden irritability that had possessed her since getting the coin, but Ginny was now inclined not to let anybody else in the group. This was her sanctuary; she didn’t want to risk it for anything.

“Well,” said Neville, scratching his neck awkwardly. “Let me just read out the names that have been given to me: Mandy Brocklehurst, Kevin Entwhistle, Sally-Anne Perks, Ida Smeek, Alannis Jackson, Sue Li, Jun Li, and Douglas Gallagher.”

“I was not expecting that many,” Seamus said.

Neville nodded fervently. “Neither was I. It’s...honestly, it gives me reassurance that we are doing the right thing. Do you think we should just let them in?”

“No,” said Luna, speaking over the fervent scratching of her quill in the notebook. “This would be a good opportunity to take a vote. All in favor of letting in new members should raise their hand.”

Ginny struggled with the thought for a few moments, but she was not the only one fighting indecision. All around, the other members of the D.A. fidgeted restlessly, or else covertly watched each other, waiting to see who was brave enough to raise their hand first. The answer to that questions, was, of course, Neville. Ultimately, and she knew that it was not in good form, Ginny chose to go along with him. She looked around once more; Michael Corner, Lavender, and Seamus had all opted to keep the group exclusive, but they were vastly outnumbered. 

“Well, that’s settled,” Neville said.

“I still think we should find a way to screen potential members,” Ginny insisted, voicing her own prevailing concerns. “We don’t want another Marietta Edgecombe.”

“Doesn’t our sign-up sheet count as a screening?”

Parvati Patil tapped Ginny on the shoulder to whisper: “I think Marietta Edgecombe’s face counts as screening.”

“Wait, the sign-up sheet has our names on them,” said Ernie frantically. “We can’t let them see it until they are fully ready to commit.”

Luna sighed dramatically. “It’s got a Scrambler Spell on it, Ernie. They won’t be able to read it…even if it was stolen and handed directly to Snape.”

“Oh,” replied Ernie. He looked a little surprised at Luna’s bluntness. “As long as it’s foolproof, it should be fine.”

Neville was pacing up at the front of the room. He was clearly deep in thought. 

“Okay,” he said. “What if I am the only person who goes to prospective members? That way, if someone refuses to sign the sheet and then goes to one of the Carrows, then the only person who gets in trouble is me.”

“Absolutely not,” Ginny protested. “We’ll share the job. It’s only fair.”

“No,” said Neville. He straightened up and crossed his arms in front of his chest. This time the gesture was done not in embarrassment, but in defiance. Ginny was surprised by this reaction. “I’m the leader, and I say that this is a responsibility and a risk that I will take alone.”

She thought about arguing, but she decided the argument wasn’t worth it. Ginny only shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Okay, if you get hurt while doing it, I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m glad you care about me.”

She bowed to his sarcasm. 

“Well, I think that’s everything on the agenda. Ginny, you have the floor…”

When Neville finally sat down, leaving the space open for her, Ginny pushed herself to her feet. She then turned around and pulled Luna up out of her seat as well. They each had a small stack of paper that they handed around to the group.

“Make sure you get one of each,” Ginny told them. “One has a list of offensive spells, and the other has a list of defensive spells and healing spells. A good chunk of them are repeats from when Harry was the leader, but I think it would be good idea to review. “

“Is there going to be a test?” Seamus asked cheekily.

“Yes,” Ginny shot back. “The test is when you have to fight your way out of an encounter with the Carrows.” 

“We have books set aside on the table if anyone wants to study theory,” Luna said. 

Ginny nodded. “Everyone is responsible for learning. Everyone is responsible for teaching. If you don’t know how to do something, ask someone who can. This will be especially important once we add a bunch of new members. We’re a team now, and we have to rely on each other if it all comes down to a fight.”

“Also, make sure these lists stay in this room,” Neville interjected quickly. “The last thing we want is for Snape and the Carrows to think we’re training an army.”

There was very little conversation as the rest of the D.A. divided into groups around the room to practice their spell casting. Ginny allowed herself a smug smile and wondered if Harry had ever looked out over the group with the same sense of pride that was now warming her heart. She took the seat next to Neville and gestured for Luna to do the same. There would be time for them to practice later. 

“This is so weird,” Luna said. “I’ve never had people listening to me so intently before.”

“Me neither,” agreed Neville.

Ginny allowed herself a smile. “It will get easier...I hope. Harry once told me that it was weirdest feeling in the world.”

They had not forgotten their newest member, and the three of them turned to find Dobby waiting patiently for them. He was sitting cross-legged in his seat, and the laces of his bright red shoes were untied and hanging down over the side of the cushion. He blinked his enormous green eyes and smiled warmly.

“What should Dobby be doing?” he asked politely. “Dobby is not a wizard, and he cannot practice magic with the other members.”

Luna flipped to the front of her notebook and pulled out the single sheet of paper that she had tucked into the cover sleeve. “Well, first, you need to sign our list.”

“And as for what else you could be doing…” Neville started, a mischievous look in his eyes; “I think I have a few ideas.”


	10. A Sudden Idea

### CHAPTER TEN: A Sudden Idea

_She walks to class. One foot after the other. Her mind is full of meaningless garbage. Stupid, childish girl. She has ten inches of writing due about the importance of proper pronunciation for Charms class, and she didn’t complete the work. She will fail that class. Has failed that class? Her mother saw her grades and wrote a stern letter about the importance of studying. Stupid, blood-traitor of a mother. She would hate to disappoint her._

_She plans her route around the castle so that she will not cross paths with the boy she fancies. Harry Potter must not be allowed to see her. Has he seen her? Will he recognize what possession looks like. Is he the next dark wizard? She is a monster. Oh, and she worries about why her roommates do not like her. Will not like her? Silly girl, he was never this pathetic as a child. None of it matters. None of it is important. Will be important? What is love compared to influence? What is friendship compared to power? She cries every evening over a daily struggle that he understands but does not comprehend._ Oh, Tom, you’re the only real friend I have! _And he pretends to care because that is how he will trap her. Has trapped her. Like a giant spider, he’s spun a web, and she’s right at the middle. One pathetic eleven-year-old girl. Pathetic. Insignificant._

My roommates have invited me to hang out with them. _She writes. There is hope even in her handwriting. Pathetic._ Should I go?

No, Ginny, it is a trap. _Ginevra, obey me. Distance yourself from the others. They do not understand. Will not understand. You are not worthy of their attention. You are pathetic. They will tease. They have talked about you behind your back. They will learn your secrets. They will tell the entire school. Perhaps they’ve already told the entire school?_

_And he/she is not surprised by this internal dialogue. Because both of them know, at least on some unconscious level, that some of the statements do not come from Tom. The rest come from the girl. You are pathetic. You are insignificant. They will tease. They will laugh. They have laughed? You will never have any friends._

_Sometimes, it’s so easy that he grows bored of her whining._

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

“Miss Weasley!”

Ginny snapped awake and quickly sat upright, unsticking her cheek from the palm of her hand. She had been fast asleep only moments ago, but now she was awake in the middle of her Muggle Studies class. Everyone was looking at her, including Professor Carrow. A quick surge of fear rushed through her veins, and Ginny blinked her eyes to clear the fog from around her brain. She could still hear Tom’s voice in the silence. 

“I...I’m sorry, Professor,” she said. “I must have spaced out.”

“Yes, that was obvious, Miss Weasley,” said Professor Alecto Carrow, smoothing back the flyaway strands of her dark red hair. “We were talking about the European Muggle invasion of Africa, and how they enslaved so many people from that continent. Can you tell me why they did that?”

“Oh,” said Ginny. “Well…”

She looked over at Luna, who was staring at her with wide eyes. Ginny had the vague impression that her friend was trying to give her a hint, but she did not want to get her in trouble. With some effort, Ginny forced herself to smile and turn back to her professor. The trick to this class was to just make up something random and horrible about Muggles. It had not failed her yet that year. “I think they enslaved so many of their own kind because Muggles are afraid of...afraid of being...inferior. They are afraid of being inferior. So they make up reasons to feel superior.”

There was a brief moment of silence while Professor Carrow stared at her in thoughtful reflection. “You know, I never thought of it like that. You must have given this a lot of thought, Miss Weasley.”

“Oh yes,” said Ginny seriously. “I mean, only a Muggle would think that they were better than another just based on the circumstances of their birth. It’s barbaric.”

In the split second that followed, Ginny wondered if she was about to be punished. Jun gave an awkward cough, and both Alannis and Ida turned to give her fearful looks. However, Professor Carrow did not seem to notice Ginny’s sarcasm. She nodded thoughtfully, scribbled a note in the margin of her book, and then turned back to continue lecturing. There was an almost audible sigh of relief from the Gryffindors. Ginny immediately slouched back down in her chair. She could not be bothered to pay attention to Professor Carrow. Her style of lecturing consisted primarily of reading straight from their Ministry-approved textbook, which was why Ginny had fallen asleep in the first place. The class was about as interesting as watching paint dry...even with the sinister propaganda. She looked over at Luna and shrugged.

“Do I have a mark on my face?” she whispered, rubbing at the spot on her cheek where she had been holding her head up with her hand.

“A small one,” Luna replied just as quietly. “I think we should be thankful she didn’t give you another.”

After class, the two girls spent most of the afternoon in the library to finish up a three-foot essay for Charms. They then grabbed a quick bite to eat from the Great Hall and headed back up to the Gryffindor Common Room. Ginny snuck Luna past the Fat Lady, per usual, and together they went up to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory. Seamus let them inside. There was music playing on the radio, and Lavender and Parvati sat in the middle of the room by the boiler. They were playing cards.

“Oh good,” Parvati started, shuffling the deck. “Seamus is being a right sore loser, and we need some fresh blood. Care to play with us?” 

“I’ll pass,” Ginny responded. “Where’s Neville?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Seamus responded. “I haven’t seen him since class. I know he was planning to recruit the new members today, though.”

Ginny froze. “Are you serious? He should have let us know!”

“We didn’t think it was important enough to tell you. I thought we decided it was better not to broadcast all our activities.”

“He’s going to get himself killed.”

She dropped her bag on Harry’s bed and spun around. She had half a mind to march back down to the castle to search for Neville. He was being an idiot; it was a foolish idea not to bring someone else as back up. What if they overpowered him and took the list to Snape? Before she had a chance to walk back to the door, however, Seamus stepped forward to block her way.

“Relax, will you?” he said. “Neville is more than capable of doing this by himself. He’ll never learn if you’re always breathing down his back. We elected him leader, not you. Besides, Ernie has patrol duty today. They’re looking out for each other.”

There was a moment of silence, then Ginny said: “Fine. I’m just…”

“A little on edge?” Luna suggested.

“Yeah.”

Ginny sank down to the ground where the others had gathered. They looked at her seriously, and Luna — sweet, caring Luna — sat down next to her and reached for her hand. That was when Ginny realized that she was shaking slightly. She tried to pull away, but Luna did not let go. Her large, blue eyes peered directly into her own as though she were searching for evidence of wrackspurts. 

“Be honest with me,” Luna said. “Have you been hearing Tom more often than usual?”

“How did you…” Ginny replied, shocked. She glanced around at Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati only to find puzzled expression on their faces. “It’s the worst it’s been since second year...but I’m not crazy or anything!”

Luna smiled. “I didn’t say you were crazy. I’m the loony one, remember?”

“I’m sorry, but who’s Tom?” asked Seamus.

“Tom is You-Know-Who’s real name,” Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. She forgot sometimes that other people did not know that. “He doesn’t go by that name anymore, but that’s what he called himself when I wrote to him in that diary my first year. I still hear his voice sometimes, but it’s really bad right now. I think it has something to do with the dementors.”

“What do you mean, ‘you still hear his voice’?” Lavender asked, perplexed.

“He possessed me. He was inside my head. I heard him all the time.”

Ginny did not miss the look of horror and revulsion that crossed over their faces. It made her feel very self-conscious and embarrassed. In fact, she felt somewhat like she had on that first night in the Hospital Wing after Harry had saved her...dirty, used, and violated. She tried not to let it show on her face. It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel like that. 

“I’m sorry,” Parvati said. “I guess I just never realized.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ginny responded, shrugging. “Everyone is still a little fuzzy on the details. I don’t like to talk about it all that much.”

With her free hand, she picked at a hole in her tattered school shoes in what she hoped was a would-be casual way. She was trying not to look any of them in the eye, but her silence conveyed all that she had left to say about the matter. Parvati sighed and put away the stack of cards. The weak signal from the wireless made the music crackle hiss occasionally, but Ginny recognized the song easily enough. It was an old rock ballad from a band called Flightless Augurey.

“So, Ginny,” Lavender said, finally breaking the silence. “We’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Is Harry really the Chosen One?”

“Oh, please!” Ginny replied. She couldn’t help it; a humorless laugh rose up out of her throat before she had a chance to repress it. That was such a tactless question. As much as she hated it, she knew that Harry hated it even more. Still laughing, she pushed herself up off the ground, and Luna finally let go of her hand. “You know Romilda Vane asked me the same thing seven times last year? As well as stupid Maisie Waters from Hufflepuff?”

“Well, some of us just never got the chance! Everyone was talking about it last year, but we just kept our mouths shut around Harry because we didn’t want him to think we were gossiping about him.”

Ginny stared at Lavender. “Is that what you were doing last year? I thought you were just trading spit with my brother.”

Seamus laughed.

“He’s not a bad kisser, you know,” Lavender said thoughtfully. “He’s going to make Hermione very happy one day if he can ever pull his head out of his ass long enough to ask her out. Although, if I were her, I would have stopped pining after him years ago.”

“I don’t want to hear about my brother’s kissing abilities, thank you very much. I’ll call you the next time I fancy puking…”

Lavender rolled her eyes.

“...I also seem to recall you throwing a crying fit when you two broke up last year.”

Her brother’s ex-girlfriend casually inspected her fingernails. “I was very upset, yes. It really hurt when he dumped me...but then Tracey Davis asked me out, and I felt better.”

“Is that who you are seeing right now?” Seamus asked, interested.

“Yes,” Lavender answered curtly. “Anyway, Ginny, you changed the subject; is Harry really the Chosen One?”

Ginny looked over at their earnest faces and knew that she wasn’t going to be able to avoid the question a second time around. Groaning, she threw herself down upon Harry’s old bed and stared up at the roof of his four-poster. How many nights had he spent in this exact same position, contemplating this exact same question? Harry was the type of person who worried incessantly. 

“I think so,” she finally said. “There was a prophecy or something. I never heard the details, but that’s why there was a battle in the Ministry of Magic at the end of my fourth year.”

“Really?” asked Parvati breathlessly.

“Luna saw it,” Ginny responded, nudging her friend with her foot.

Luna quickly shook her head, nearly dislodging her wand from its safe spot behind her ear. “Not really. Everything was so chaotic at the Ministry. It broke, and there was just a bunch of smoke. I don’t know what I saw.”

“Well, anyway, Harry knows the full prophecy...and I’m sure Ron and Hermione do as well.”

Seamus gave a low whistle. “And I never knew. All that time, I was sharing a dormitory with the Chosen One.”

“Oh, please don’t call him that,” Ginny moaned.

“Why not?” Parvati said. “You should be happy that you are dating someone as strong and famous as Harry!”

“Not dating...”

“You know I’m not going to believe that, Ginny,” Lavender replied. “The only reason he broke up with you was to protect you from You-Know-Who. That doesn’t count. What if circumstances had been different? What if Harry were here at Hogwarts?”

Ginny did not answer. She tried not to think of such things; it was too painful.

Lavender sighed. “It’s like a fairy tale.”

“What fairy tales did you grow up reading?” Seamus laughed. “Because whenever I think of that word, my brain immediately jumps to The Hopping Pot or The Warlock’s Hairy Heart, and neither of those are adorable.”

“No, Seamus! I mean like a Muggle fairy tale. Those are much better anyway. Think of something like King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. Now, that’s a proper love story! And they are so much alike! Harry’s even pulled a sword out of hat!”

“King Arthur pulled the sword out of rock, remember?”

“Also, didn’t Guinevere cheat on Arthur?”

“No, she got kidnapped!”

“Yeah, and then stoned to death…”

Ginny, however, did not join in on the teasing. Something deep in her brain had clicked. It was as if her memory had been waiting for the opportune moment to retrieve the most important piece of information she felt like she had ever forgotten. The word ‘sword’ had acted like a trigger. She sat up and raised her hands to her mouth in surprise, trying to make sense of the flood of adrenaline that was now coursing through her veins. Why was her heart suddenly beating a violent rhythm against the bones in her chest?

“Oh Merlin, that’s it!” she said.

“Oh yeah!” Lavender responded. “I forgot Merlin was in the story!”

“No, not that!” Ginny exclaimed.

Just then, the door opened. They all turned just as Neville walked inside. He looked tired extremely, and he was practically dragging his school bag across the ground. If he was surprised to see them sitting on the floor of his dormitory, he did not show it. In one hand, he held the sign-up sheet for Dumbledore’s Army. Even from her position on the other side of the room, Ginny could tell that it was significantly longer than it had been last Friday.

He handed the list back to Luna, who carefully folded it up and placed it back inside her notebook.

“Do you think they will keep the secret?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah, I think so at least. I tried to be threatening, but I don’t know if it worked.”

Then Neville looked up at Ginny, who was still sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed, practically shaking with excitement. “You alright, Ginny?”

“No,” she responded. “I’ve got a question for you, though.”

“Yeah?”

“On a scale of one to ten...how do you feel about breaking into Snape’s office?”

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

Ernie ran his hands over his face for what felt like the thousandth time that night. “Can...can you explain it to us one more time?”

“What else do you want me to say?” Ginny shot back.

She was halfway through yet another lap around the Room of Requirement. The rest of the D.A. sat lounging on the cushions or either quietly practicing their spellcasting in one corner of the room. This included their seven new members. At the present moment, both Alannis and Ida were staring at Ginny as though she had sprouted an extra head. In fact, it was a look mirrored on quite a few different faces. Ginny was dimly aware of how she must look; there were shadows under her eyes and her unwashed hair was pulled back in a messy bun. She had stayed up all night running the idea over in her mind.

“The whole thing!” Ernie replied, slightly frantic. “I want you to explain it again because the whole thing sounds batshit crazy.”

“Harry needs the Sword of Gryffindor,” Ginny answered.

“Yes, you’ve said that...but I still don’t understand why!”

Ginny opened her mouth to respond rudely, but before she had a chance to reply, Neville interrupted. “Because Professor Dumbledore gave it to him in his will.”

He was standing with his back to them, staring down at his shoes as if they would provide the clarity that they were seeking. Ginny wondered if he realized just how close he was standing to the bulletin board, and if his eyes had ever searched for his parents in the picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. She shook the thought from her mind. 

“Exactly. Harry learned on the night of his birthday that Dumbledore had left him the sword. Rufus Scrimgeour even came to our house. I still can’t believe I forgot.”

“But why would Harry need a sword?” Terry Boot asked incredulously. 

This was the question for which Ginny had no answer. She could only stare at them in hopeless desperation, because this was something that had bothered her all night. She had several ideas, but every single one felt implausible. Everything about Harry now was an enigma, and it wasn’t like she could just ask him. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” said Terry. “Let’s consider this logically: Why would Dumbledore even give Harry the sword. What good is a sword?”

Luna frowned at him. “It’s the sword of Gryffindor. Not only is it an important historical artifact, but it’s also one of the most powerful relics associated with the founders. It’s goblin-made.”

“Okay,” said Seamus. “It’s really fancy...but why would Harry need it?”

“Maybe it’s the only thing that can kill You-Know-Who?” suggested Hannah.

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then several individuals laughed. Hannah blushed scarlet. Ginny, however, was not laughing, and neither was Luna. The two of them exchanged a knowing look. If Ginny had not known Hannah personally, she would have thought that the girl was making fun of them. It really was an absurd idea, and yet, that very same thought had been lingering at the forefront of Ginny’s mind all day. Hearing someone else say it out loud made her feel like she wasn’t crazy.

“You can’t be serious,” said Seamus, when he noticed that they were not laughing. 

“You don’t know him like I do,” Ginny responded quietly. “He’s done things...terrible things in a quest to make himself both powerful and immortal. I bet regular magic wouldn’t even hurt him. Dumbledore had secret lessons with Harry all last year, and I bet he was teaching him special ways to fight him.”

“But a sword?” 

“It’s the sword of Gryffindor,” said Luna earnestly. “And he’s the heir of Slytherin. What if it’s the only thing that will kill him?”

“I hear what you are saying about him being the heir of Slytherin,” said Mandy Brocklehurst, speaking out loud to the group for the first time. She was a quiet Ravenclaw with long dark hair and glasses; “but I don’t think Gryffindor and Slytherin hated each other so much that they would start a centuries long feud that would culminate in a petty sword fight.”

Ernie nodded vigorously. “See? This is why we need Ravenclaws. This whole thing does not make sense.”

“The guy literally built a giant chamber under the school to house his pet monster,” Ginny replied sarcastically. “This is not an unreasonable conclusion. Why else would Dumbledore have given him the sword in the first place?”

“It’s Dumbledore. He did mad things all the time. Didn’t he also give Harry an old snitch?”

“That’s different! Both Harry and Hermione reckoned there was something in that old snitch!”

“You just want a reason to be useful for —”

“I think we should do it,” Neville interrupted again.

Ernie’s mouth dropped open in an expression that was half-surprised and half-furious. Ginny’s spirits soared. Neville had turned back around to face them. His face looked grim and serious, but there was something like excitement flickering in his eyes, and it reminded Ginny of the look Harry always got whenever he was about to do something dangerous. Sometimes she forgot that Neville was just as much a Gryffindor as they were.

“But it doesn’t have to include all of us,” he continued. “We can’t all sneak into Snape’s office. We wouldn’t fit. I think it should just be me and Ginny.”

“And me!” Luna said forcibly. She set aside the notebook in her lap to stand up, and they were surprised to see that her hands had curled into fists. “I’m coming as well. It should be the three of us.”

“Alright, us and Luna,” Neville amended weakly.

Hannah looked back and forth between the three of them, concern etched on her face. “What if something happens to you? Do you expect us to sit back while you risk your lives?”

“We’ll need a distraction,” said Ginny.

This, at least, made quite a few of the other D.A. members lean forward in anticipation. They could always count on those who legitimately enjoyed causing chaos to be excited for a chance to cause a diversion. That would be the easy part; the Carrows were fun to antagonize even if it was a little bit like baiting a dragon. Ginny’s eyes darted over to where Jun, Douglas, Ida, and Alannis were sitting, and she was pleased to find that they had not yet been driven off by her madness. Ernie however, was still shaking his head in bemusement.

“This is insanity. Snape is going to kill you.”

“Well,” Seamus said in response; “It looks like they are going whether we help or not, so we might as well do our best to make sure they don’t get murdered. Ginny, what kind of distraction are you wanting?

Ginny smiled for the first time that day. “A big one, but maybe not too big. I don’t want anyone to get in trouble. We just something to get him out of his office for a bit. 

“It will be tough,” Ernie said. “He rarely ever leaves his office.”

“I bet we can think of something.”

They spent the rest of the meeting plotting up ways to guarantee that Snape would be out of his office long enough for them to break in and steal the sword. It was not easy, though, and they kept going down tangents where they speculated why Harry would even need the sword in the first place. They also took it in turns to teach the new members a few important spells from the lists they now had tacked up on the bulletin board. It was tedious work, but at least all seven of the new members were quick learners. 

“What if we sent him a letter?” Lavender suggested. “Made it look as though You-Know-Who were trying to give him new orders.”

Ginny laughed. “You-Know-Who doesn’t send letters.”

“It was just a thought. Would Jugson give him any orders then?”

“Snape is ranked above Jugson and the Carrows.”

“How do you know?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ginny asked. She was amazed when several other people shook their heads in response. “I thought it was obvious. I mean, Snape killed Dumbledore. That has to put him in the top five supporters, at least. Plus, Snape appears to be the one telling them what to do. I saw him ordering Jugson around once.”

“Why are they always arguing then?” Neville said, frowning.

Ginny shrugged. “Not sure. I think Snape hates the Carrows and Jugson because they don’t always follow his orders very well. I still haven’t figured out where Jugson fits in the ranking, but I’m about ninety percent sure the Carrows are just henchmen. They just needed warm bodies to fill the spots.”

“I can believe that,” Seamus replied darkly.

When there was about fifteen minutes left before it was time for them to leave, Dobby returned from his own expedition. They beckoned him over to corner of the room and offered him a seat. Ginny sat down next to him, sinking into the now familiar cushions so that she could be on the House Elf’s level. It had only been a few days since they had last seen him, but the fact that they did not normally see any House Elves roaming the halls of the castle made their reunion feel a lot more significant.

“Hello, Dobby, how are you?”

“Dobby is good, sir!” the House Elf squeaked. “Thank you for asking!”

“Do you have any new information for us?”

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. “Dobby managed to speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt. He said to tell you that he would be willing to pass along any information to your families, but he discourages frequent contact because he is under constant surveillance.”

“Well, it’s a start,” Neville said to Ginny.

“Mr. Shacklebolt also said that he disagrees with any behavior that might endanger your lives. He wanted Dobby to tell you that he has no problem going to Miss Wheezy’s mother and father if he thinks we are being unsafe.”

Ginny huffed. “He can go ahead and tell them for all I care. It’s not like they can do anything about it without the Death Eaters finding out.”

“Does Miss really want Dobby to say that?” Dobby asked uncomfortably.

“No,” Neville replied quickly, elbowing Ginny in the side. “She’s just joking. Did you do any other sleuthing for us? What about finding a secret passageway?”

“Dobby has not been able to find a secret passageway out of the castle, or at least one that is not heavily guarded by the evil Aurors and Death Eaters,” he replied, hanging his head. “However, Dobby thinks it might be possible for you to use the secret passageway to Honeydukes if you are able to carefully sneak past.”

Neville sighed. “I was hoping for something that we could have complete control over, but I knew not to get my hopes up.”

“In the event of an emergency, we can probably hold the Death Eaters off long enough to let the younger students evacuate,” Luna said, scribbling in her notebook. 

“I wish we had the Marauder’s Map,” Ginny muttered.

Luna didn’t even look up. “Don’t waste your energy being angry about that. Remember, wrackspurts feed off pointless grudges.”

“Anyway,” Neville continued: “I have one last question for you, Dobby. By chance, do any of the House Elves know the password to the Headmaster’s office?”

Dobby looked up at them, evidently confused by the change of subject. He had removed all three of his knitted hats before sitting down with them, and he now held them carefully in his long fingers. The hats themselves were worn and thin; in fact, the yarn was faded in color. Ginny hoped he had other hats packed away somewhere...and not just the ones Hermione had made two years ago.

“Yes,” Dobby said after a moment. They were honestly surprised by the answer. “There are a few House Elves who are allowed to clean the Headmaster’s office, and they all know the password.

“But not every House Elf knows the password, though, right? You don’t know the password for instance?”

“No, Dobby does not know the password.”

“Could you get the password?” Ginny asked hopefully.

An uncharacteristically mischievous smile spread on his face. “Dobby can’t make any promises, but he might be able to figure it out. Can Dobby ask why?”

“We’re going to steal the sword of Gryffindor from Snape’s office,” Ginny said. “It belongs to Harry now.”

“And we’ll need your help getting it to Harry once we’ve stolen it,” Neville added. 

“But Dobby is not sure where Harry Potter is hiding.”

Ginny waved her hand. “Technicalities. We’ll figure that out later.”

o – o – o – o – o – o – o

That night, Ginny dreamt of a massive fire. It was as bright and as vivid as any fire she had ever seen before. It rose up on either side of her like two giants, and the roaring was so loud that she couldn’t even hear herself think. She thought there was something beautiful and inspiring in the flames, as close as they were to devouring her. It was also incredibly warm, and she was struggling to breathe. In her dream, she tried to take a few steps backwards, but the wall of fire had closed in behind her. She was afraid, but not yet terrified. She looked around her in either direction and saw that many people had already succumbed to the flames. They were screaming. Ginny wanted to help, but she did not know how. She didn’t have her wand.

“Ginny!” said Harry.

She turned toward his voice. There was a gap in the flames, and he was standing right in the path to safety. There was soot on his face, and his glasses were cracked. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face, and he looked scared. 

Ginny took a step backwards. “No! This is your fault.”

“I know,” Harry shouted. “I’m sorry.”

The fire then engulfed him, closing off her only escape route. He did not scream out in pain like the others, but it was still evident on his face. Ginny tried to run to him, but she could not get past the wall of fire. He laid down, without fighting, and died.

Ginny woke up very suddenly. She was wrapped tightly in her blankets, so much that she was covered in sweat and finding it hard to breathe. Kicking back the covers, she gulped in cold air. It was just a dream; Harry was not dead...at least as far as she knew. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and willed herself to calm down. She had no idea where the dream had come from, and it bothered her immensely that her own consciousness was subjecting her to such emotional trauma. She was still so angry at Harry, but she knew, deep down, that he did not deserve it.


	11. The Sword of Gryffindor

### CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Sword of Gryffindor

Neville wanted to spend at least another week or two preparing for their new mission, but Ginny did not want to wait. She was too impatient. She had already decided a long time ago that she was not the type of person who would sit around and engage in self-reflection. Once her mind was made up, that was it. The perfect opportunity to break into Snape’s office would not present itself in a timely manner — nor in a format that they would recognize — so Ginny convinced the other two that sooner, rather than later, was better. Her worst fear was that Snape would learn of their plan and move the sword. Therefore, October arrived in a frenzy of anxiety. They had planned the event for the evening of the first: a Wednesday just like any other. 

The weather outside on that day was damp but not unusual for that time of year. The deciduous trees had already begun to change; splotches of orange and red could be seen in the courtyard where they did not have to compete with the dark evergreens that dominated the Forbidden Forest. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, occasionally disrupted by a sharp wind from the mountains. There was a chill in the air that hinted winter would come sooner than expected. 

On that particular day, the Gryffindor sixth years spent the afternoon in one of the Herbology Greenhouses, where they were starting a lesson on Snargaluff pods. Ginny shared a table with Alannis and Ida. Professor Sprout allowed light conversation as long as it didn’t disrupt their work, and the three of them were able to talk in an undertone without attracting too many suspicious looks. The D.A. coins buried deep in their pockets were noticeably warm even through layers of fabric; from different points in the castle, a handful of members were prepping that evening’s distraction. 

“Just Seamus asking Anthony for a calculation,” said Alannis, surreptitiously sliding the coin back out of sight.

“Anyway,” continued Ida: “I don’t want to cause unnecessary panic, but I really think that the Carrows have been holding extra credit lessons to teach the Unforgivables.”

Ginny frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Ernie and I took a look at the patrol schedule. Something isn’t lining up. McGonagall and Filch have both had to take double shifts this week, and the Carrows keep rerouting everyone around their classrooms. Also, there were a few students out after curfew with permission slips from Amycus Carrow.”

“I’m going to guess they weren’t Hufflepuffs,” Ginny muttered sarcastically.

She was leaning over her Snargaluff pod, inspecting it curiously. It was a large thing, about the size of a grapefruit, and she could just make out the writhing green tubers underneath the surface of the hard outer shell. She didn’t have the faintest idea on how to break it open properly. It was supposedly a cinch compared to the task of actually extracting the thing from the Snargaluff plant, but that was a lesson they would not start until Professor Sprout’s second batch fully dropped their leaves. 

“Lucky guess,” Ida replied. “What do you know about Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott?”

Ginny tore her eyes from her work to fix her roommate with a serious expression. “Stay away from them. They are bad news. All three of them have Death Eater parents. Why do you want to know?”

“Sue said she saw them coming out of Amycus Carrow’s office last night.”

“Who?”

“Sue Li...you know, Jun’s sister in Ravenclaw? She’s a Prefect.”

Ginny quickly nodded. “Oh right. Sorry. For a second, I thought you were talking about Susan Bones, and I was confused because she was hanging out with us last night.”

“Hold on, Ginny,” said Alannis, reaching out to stop Ginny from stabbing her Snargaluff pod. “You break them open by applying pressure to the top. See where it has a natural seal? It will come apart, no sharp objects necessary.”

“Right,” Ginny said, putting down her scissors. “Guess I wasn’t paying much attention earlier.”

“That’s obvious. You seem nervous,” said Ida.

“And moodier than usual,” Alannis added.

“You must be mistaken,” Ginny replied, pressing down on the Snargaluff pod. It broke open and the foul-smelling tubers wriggled out like a thousand worms. “I’m as cheerful as a niffler in a jewelry shop.”

Alannis pressed the sleeve of her robes up over her mouth. “Those smell terrible.”

“You’ve clearly never smelt my brother’s socks then.”

They were silent for a moment while Ginny quickly scooped the tubers into a mason jar for canning. Despite her words otherwise, she actually found the smell quite nauseating. She leaned as far back as it was possible and breathed only through her mouth. Closing the lid to her jar brought no relief, however, because Ida chose that exact moment to break open her own Snargaluff pod.

“Excellent,” said Professor Sprout, admiring their handiwork. “Professor Slughorn will really appreciate these for his fourth years.”

Ida watched their professor walk to the other end of the Greenhous before speaking. “So what do we do about the Slytherin boys?”

“For Crabbe and Goyle, you have to take a fast approach. They are really slow and dim-witted, but there is a lot of force behind their spell-casting. You have to go at them from the side, and you don’t want to waste a lot of time with flashy offensive spells. Two shots should do it; one for each. Nott is a little different, though. He’s actually pretty clever, and I’m about ninety percent he’s a psychopath. You have to face him head one, no bullshit, like a Gryffindor.”

Ginny paused to take a breath, and she noticed that both Alannis and Ida were staring at her.

“What?”

“I think it’s telling that your mind immediately jumped to attacking them.”

“I meant in defense,” said Ginny forcibly. “I meant if they attack you, that’s how you should defend yourself. They are horrible people, and I can promise you that I have most definitely thought about how I would protect myself if they were to ever come after me. Welcome to being on the good side of the war! You have to be prepared to fight.”

“Calm down, Ginny,” Ida responded in an irritated voice. “We’re not implying anything. I get what you are saying...we should stay away from them. Happy now?”

Ginny nodded, though she was still grumpy. There was an awkward and drawn-out pause.

“Well,” said Alannis, in a deliberate attempt to change the subject. “Do you want us to wait up for you tonight? To make sure you get back okay?”

“No, don’t worry about me,” Ginny replied. “Everything will be fine.”

“Ginny, we still worry. We’ve done nothing but worry about you since first year.”

“I appreciate the concern,” she snapped, and that was the end of their conversation. 

After class, they made the journey back up to Gryffindor Tower to wash up before dinner. Maybe it was Ginny’s imagination, but she thought she could still smell the Snargaluff tubers on her skin long after she scrubbed her fingers raw with soap and hot water. She even went as far as to change her clothes, donning Harry’s sweatshirt on underneath her school robes. Alannis and Ida did not join her on the way back down to the Great Hall, but then again, this was all intentional. They would join Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein outside Alecto Carrow’s office later.

Ginny walked down the Grand Staircase alone, her mind buzzing with the plan they were about to execute. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she walked right into someone just as she was turning off the third-floor landing. The other person had also not been paying attention, and a thick stack of heavy tomes tumbled out of his arms and down the staircase.

Without thinking, Ginny knelt down to pick up the book at her feet. The front cover of it bore the title, _Blood Curses of the Twentieth Century_.

“Give me that!” 

It was Draco Malfoy. Ginny took a quick step backwards, and she was surprised to find a look of mortification on his pale face. Two bright red patches stood out on his prominent cheekbones. 

“Watch where you’re going, Malfoy!” she snapped.

“You stink, Weasley,” he said. 

He scrambled to pick up the other books on the ground, and then, holding them close to his chest, he shouldered his way past her. He gave her a look of deepest loathing before heading off to the library. Ginny stood still for a moment on the staircase; she was angry, but not one second of that interaction had left her feeling unsafe. Curiously, it had been Malfoy who looked scared. 

She shook her head and kept on walking.

The Great Hall was about as busy as to be expected at five o’clock on a Wednesday. Ginny was delighted to see that both Carrows were seated in their respective seats, chowing down on two equally large plates of food. They could always be counted upon to be seen up at the Head table for every meal. Smirking to herself, Ginny carefully chose her seat at the Gryffindor table next to Neville, Seamus, and Luna. Her Ravenclaw friend immediately scooted over to make room.

“I just saw the weirdest thing,” she started by way of introduction. “I don’t quite know what to make of it.”

“Is it Pansy Parkinson’s new haircut?” Seamus asked.

Ginny immediately laughed. “Merlin, I thought I was the only one who noticed that. I don’t know who in Slytherin fancies themselves a hairdresser, but they need to stop. It’s all uneven, and it doesn’t look intentional. No, I was referring to something completely different, though it is a Slytherin.”

“What?”

“I just saw Malfoy, hurrying off to the library all secretive. He didn’t stop to attack me or anything, and he had book on Blood Curses he didn’t want me to see. Should we be worried?”

“Blood curses?” Seamus said, looking perplexed. “Those take years to properly do. There’s no way Malfoy would be able to do anything like that in just a few months. I don’t even think there would be a book in the library that would tell you how to do one. It’s the sort of thing you only hear about really dark wizards doing...like Morgana.”

“Maybe it was homework?” Neville said.

“Or just curiosity,” Luna piped up. “There’s a girl in Slytherin who just got diagnosed with a Blood Curse. It’s all they’re talking about right now.”

“Really? How do you know?”

Luna shrugged, and her radish earrings dangled precariously. “I do listen to gossip every now and then; I like to listen to see if anybody is talking about daddy’s magazine. They were saying something interesting, so I kept listening. They are the only ones not talking about serious stuff.”

“Well, that is a curious piece of gossip,” said Ginny.

“Do we know who’s sick?” asked Seamus, peering over at the Slytherin table with interest.

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” said Luna. “She’s younger, whoever she is.”

Ginny made a show of trying to pick out something to eat. “So, do we think Malfoy’s interest in Blood Curses is morbid curiosity or something more sinister?” 

“Let’s just keep an eye on him,” said Neville. “He hasn’t done anything so far this year.”

“Unless you count moping and pulling faces,” said Ginny.

“You three sound way too casual considering what you are about to do,” Seamus said to them.

Ginny shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

In the end, however, all she could stomach was a roll and some gravy. Beside her, Neville was pushing around his steak and kidney pie without eating any of it. Luna had constructed a tiny house out of steamed carrots. Ginny nudged them both playfully, and they managed smiles in return. 

“So, whose idea was it to put a bunch of transfigured mice in each of the Carrows’ offices?” Seamus asked.

“Mine,” Ginny replied.

“And do you really think that will keep them occupied for the rest of the night?”

“It will if it’s _enough_ mice.”

“Oh, Merlin. And whose idea was it to transfigure them from discarded pieces of cheese?”

Luna gave him an especially wide smile. “That would be mine. Nothing is more inspiring than the prospect of smelly cheese.”

It was going to be a prank worthy of Fred and George...or at least that was Ginny’s opinion. In just a few moments, Seamus was going to cause chaos in the Great Hall by secretly unrolling a hidden banner — emblazoned with the D.A.’s unofficial slogan (“Still Recruiting”) — from the rafters. At that point, two groups stationed on the first and third floors would be set to release several hundred transfigured mice into the Carrows’ offices. Everyone, including Snape, would think that the purpose of the banner would be to cover up the release of the mice...when in reality, both pranks were to cover up the fact that Neville, Luna, and Ginny would be breaking into the Headmaster’s office.

“Are you ready?” Neville asked, checking his watch.

Ginny’s heart immediately jumped to her throat, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she was also very excited. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, she actually felt like she was doing something important...something that would help Harry. She put down her fork and stood up. “Let’s get this over with. Come on, Luna.”

“Good luck, you fucking morons,” Seamus said, grinning.

The three of them hurried out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. It was a long journey to the seventh floor, where the entrance to the Headmaster’s office was located behind a rather gnarled and severe-looking gargoyle. Ginny had been inside only once before, to recount her version of the Ministry battle to Dumbledore after Madam Pomfrey had mended her ankle. She could remember the space well enough, despite the fact that she had been overcome with grief over Sirius’ death at the time. They were counting on the hope that it had not changed much in the intervening years and change in occupants.

“You got the password from Dobby, right?” she asked Neville halfway between the second and third floors.

“What would you do if I said no?”

She quickly looked up and was relieved to see that he was smiling. “Longbottom, is that a joke? Are you really making a joke at a time like this?”

“Not sure,” he replied, still grinning. “I must’ve gone insane.”

Once they were up on the correct floor, Ginny pulled the other two into an alcove behind a suit of armor, and they took turns casting the Disillusionment Charms upon each other. Satisfied that they were hidden well-enough to escape anyone’s notice, they sat back and waited for Snape to emerge. It was ten seconds until Seamus was set to perform the prank….

Nine seconds…

Eight seconds…

Seven seconds… 

Six seconds…

Five seconds…

Four seconds… 

Three seconds…

Two seconds…

One second…

Ginny let out a quiet breath. Meanwhile, her heart beat madly inside her chest. There was no sound up on the seventh floor, empty as it was, and it was near impossible to hear anything that may or may not have been happening down in the Great Hall. Even though the Disillusionment Charm kept them hidden, she could feel Luna and Neville beside her. They were practically shaking with nervous energy, but no one said a word. Everything was silent until…

There was the sound of stone grinding against stone as the spiral staircase that was concealed behind the gargoyle sprang to life. They saw his robes first; long, black, and billowing as he hurried down. His pale face stood out in stark contrast against his dark clothing, and it seemed to Ginny that his skin was even paler in his anger. It was obvious that he was furious. He did not wait until the staircase had finished its descent before he was already marching purposefully down the hallway. His footsteps rang out against the stone floor as he passed their concealed hiding spot. Ginny thought she heard him muttering. 

“Quick,” Neville whispered as soon as their headmaster was out of view.

They held onto each other’s hands as they ran, crouched low to the ground. Even though they were still under the Disillusionment Charms, their outlines cast weird shadows across the ground. It would have been obvious that something was making a break for the office, but they did not wait around to risk discovery.

Neville was still leading them. “Martagon.”

“If you say so,” the gargoyle replied, yawning.

The staircase had already been halfway back up to its resting position when it paused and started rotating the other way. Like Snape, they did not wait for it get all the way down to the bottom; they jumped and started climbing up as fast as they could. Ginny felt nearly dizzy with anxiety, but she attributed it to the tightly spiraled staircase. Up and up they went, until they reached a wooden door with a griffin shaped knocker. For one sickening moment, Ginny was afraid that the office might be locked, but then Neville reached out to push it, and door swung open as easily as if it had been on invitation.

“Who goes there?” said a sharp voice.

Ginny had been prepared for this, and they intentionally did not call out for fear of being recognized. The Headmaster’s Office looked just the same as it did when she had last seen it, under the ownership of Professor Dumbledore. Although many of the delicate instruments and magical artifacts had been pushed up against the corners or else neatly tucked away on shelves, it was still decorated in exactly the same fashion. All along the walls hung the paintings of past headmasters. Many of the occupants were awake, craning their necks in order to see who had just crossed over the threshold. 

“Show yourself!” demanded a voice Ginny recognized as belonging to Phineas Nigellus Black. “We can see that you are under the Disillusionment Charm. This is the Headmaster’s Office, and you are not allowed here without express permission from Professor Snape himself.”

They looked around; it was clear that Snape had been in the middle of something when he had been interrupted. There were books lying open on the desk, scattered across with no real rhyme or reason. Directly behind the Headmaster’s chair was a painting of someone Ginny recognized immediately. It was Dumbledore. Her heart leaped in her chest and she let go of Luna’s hand to cross the office for a better look. Her beloved old professor was sound asleep in his chair, head resting against the ornate frame that surrounded his picture. His lined face was just as she remembered, and his long silver hair and beard would have been distinguishable from kilometers away.

“Professor Dumbledore!” she said.

The sleeping portrait made no indication that he had heard them. 

“Professor Dumbledore?” she asked again. “Professor Dumbledore, we need your help! It’s urgent.”

“I don’t think he’s going to wake up,” Neville hissed from behind her. “Look around! We need to find the sword.”

“No need to look; it’s right there,” said Ginny bitterly, pointing to a display cabinet behind the Headmaster’s desk.

She felt, rather than saw, the other two brush past her as they hurried forward to examine the sword. The display cabinet was divided into three sections, with books lining the shelves on either side of a middle. Snape had crammed several dozens of Dumbledore’s antique magical artifacts along every available space. The sword itself was on the top shelf. It was situated atop a velvet pillow underneath a glass case. The metal was clean, polished, and gleaming silver...like a decorative blade worn by Muggle royalty on their coronation day. Not a single one of the rubies looked out of place, but it still managed to look just as deadly as the day Harry had rammed it straight through the head of the Basilisk.

“How do we get it down?” Luna asked.

Ginny glanced back at Dumbledore’s sleeping portrait. He still had not moved, and she pushed away the hurt she felt for another day. She pulled Snape’s chair out from behind his desk and pushed it up against the display cabinet. Then she climbed up and reached forward to inspect the glass case that enclosed it. 

“Who are you?” demanded Phineas Nigellus Black. “This is Professor Snape’s office, and you are breaking and entering.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Ginny. She tugged on the case. There was no lock or door or visible point of entry. “I’m not sure how to get it out! _Alohomora!_ ”

Nothing happened. 

“ _Accio Sword! Wingardium Leviosa!_ ”

“Of course you cannot take the sword!” said the sneering voice of Phineas Nigellus Black. “No magic will unlock it and there is no spell that will break the glass! It is an ancient artifact that presents itself only to worthy Gryffindors. It cannot be stolen.”

“Do you think we have to present ourselves as worthy?” Neville asked Ginny nervously.

He was almost tall enough to be at eye level with the sword, and he reached up to give it a good tug as well. The glass case would not budge, even with the combined force of both of their best efforts. Ginny did not need to be able to see Neville’s face to tell that he was sweating profusely. All along the walls, the portraits of past headmasters were jumping from frame to frame. They were whispering to each other behind cupped hands, and few disappeared from their portraits completely. 

“What do we do?” Luna asked.

Neville then rattled the display case with as much force as he could muster. “I don’t know. Maybe we should leave? Come back and try again another day?”

“Not with flibbertigibbet over there,” Ginny said frantically. “Snape will probably increase the protections on the sword if we fail!”

“You do realize that the Professor has detection spells on his door,” Phineas Nigellus Black replied in a lofty voice. Ginny could see him casually leaning back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his smug face. He was the only one of the Headmasters who did look alarmed or worried. “I imagine that he’s on his way back right now.”

“Ginny,” Neville said in a firm voice. “We need to get out of here!”

“I have one last idea!”

It was a shot in the dark; if there was one thing that she had learned from Hermione, it was that even the cleverest of wizards overlooked the simplest of solutions. Ginny turned around and swiped a solid stone paperweight from the top of Snape’s desk. Neville and Luna both realized what she was about to do, and they dove out of the way. Ginny arched her arm back and brought the paperweight down upon the glass case with all the might of a chaser. She hadn’t expected it to actually work, so she was quite surprised when the thing shattered beneath the stone. Bits of glass flew in every direction, and a jagged piece sliced her arm down the side. 

“Times up,” said Neville, and he reached inside to pull out the sword.

There was no resistance; he lifted the sword from the cushion with so much ease that Ginny wondered if it had been waiting for them. A curious gleam of silver filled the room as it reflected the lights from the overhead lamps. Neville carefully pointed the tip to the floor, holding the sharp edges away from his body. 

“Come on,” Luna said, tugging on his arm. “Let’s get out of here!”

Ginny leapt off the chair, and together the three of them made a break for the door. They crossed the threshold, and their feet were already scrambling down the stone steps. None of them stopped to consider why the steps were fully extended, but the answer was waiting for them at the bottom.

“ _Expelliarmus! Finite Incatatem! Incarcerous!_ ”

It happened in quick succession. First, their wands were wrenched from their grasp with enough force that it yanked Luna down the stairs. She gave a cry of alarm. The Sword of Gryffindor slipped from Neville’s grasp and clattered loudly against the stone. The Disillusionment Charms had broken, and Ginny threw up her two very visible arms to catch her fall as ropes forcibly bound her legs together. 

“Well now,” said a low, drawling voice. “What do we have here?”


End file.
